Series: Like Us Series by Krista Ritchie
Total pages in book: 241
Estimated words: 236417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1182(@200wpm)___ 946(@250wpm)___ 788(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 236417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1182(@200wpm)___ 946(@250wpm)___ 788(@300wpm)
I start nodding, realizing this is as much about his needs as it is about mine. He doesn’t want to rush too fast, too far, and I don’t want him to regret any intimate moment with me.
“Okay,” I breathe. “Okay.”
“Yeah?” His chest rises, like maybe he’d been nervous to tell me how he felt.
He’s not really rejecting me. The wait continues, and it’s for good reasons. “Yeah, but should I be less…?” Wild? Aggressive? Needy?
He’s shaking his head. “Be yourself, space babe. That’s all I’ll ever want.”
I begin to smile, overwhelmed tears trying to prick my eyes, and I roll more on top of him. He clasps my hips while I straddle his waist, too far up his body to feel his erection against me. He said we can do a lot, just not have sex. I peer down at him. He doesn’t desert my gaze, not as I say, “Would it be a bad idea if I blow you?”
His smile is almost there. Faint. On the edge. “You wanna blow me?”
The thought of exploring him closer and taking him in my mouth already flames my whole body. “Yeah, it’s mission critical. Our future in space depends on it.”
He’s grinning with me and asks, “What happens if you don’t?”
“We die, of course.”
“Can’t have that happen.”
“No, we can’t,” I breathe, heat ramping up in our pod. “And it has to be me—I have to be the one to make you come, or else…” I near his lips, or maybe he’s nearing mine. “…I’ll faint.”
He clutches the back of my head. “How you feeling now?” The husky rasp to his voice is so attractive, I could listen to him talk the whole time we’re fooling around.
“Woozy.” My thighs instinctively tighten around him.
He kisses me, another sensual, deep kiss that steals oxygen. I’m glad he pulls away or else I would’ve stayed glued to him, and I must proceed with the mission.
“You better suck my cock,” Donnelly tells me, his grin too sexy.
“I’mgoingI’mgoing,” I slur together in a hot rush, and I pretend I’m in zero gravity and drifting down our cryopod. He leans back on his elbows, but with one hand, he combs back my hair.
I draw his pants off his waist, past his ass, down his legs. He’s kicking them off.
The green glow along his inked body is tantalizing, and I could lick every inch of him. Focus on the cock, Luna. He’s so aroused, when I grip his shaft, his muscles flex in response, and a deep noise scrapes against his throat.
“Like this?” I ask, since I have very limited experience giving head. To be honest, I have none (that I remember), but the idea of the whole act is torching me with pleasure.
“Yeah, like that.” His fingers slide into my hair, and he holds the back of my skull while I run my tongue along his shaft. “Fuck.” His breathy, masculine fucks are electrodes shocking my clit.
I pull back from my own arousal, but I keep a hand around him. He’s so big to me, and I love the veins traveling down his length. So I lick those too. His muscles contract again, and I wonder if he feels the ball of my tongue piercing. Speaking of piercings, he has two on his cock that I tease with the flick of my tongue.
His breath is heavier, hotter.
I kinda want a little guidance on what to do next, and as I look up at him, he must see it in my eyes. He sits up, bending forward. The sleeping bag is still tenting us. It feels bigger in here and less snug.
Donnelly touches my hand, which is wrapped around the base of his cock. “You don’t have to be gentle about it.”
I squeeze a little harder.
He grins like I’m endearing somehow. But it flickers in and out with arousal. “Harder than that.”
I tighten my grip, and his hand is still sheathing mine. He’s feeling my knuckles curve and fingers squeeze around him.
His abs flex. “Up and down.” He moves my hand for me, and once I perfect the rhythm, he lets go, and the hot friction beneath my palm and the way his length twitches is trying to send me. His cock is so warm.
I squirm a little, pulsing. Aching.
His hand is back on my head. “Open your mouth.” He instructs me on how not to scrape my teeth against him, and I feel more confident in my blow job pursuits.
I look at him as I grip the base of his shaft again and wrap my lips around his swollen head. His breath shortens and jaw clenches like pleasuring is slamming at him, especially when we lock eyes, and I try to go deeper. His hardness is sliding against my tongue.
“Fuck,” he grunts out, and he pushes my head down. Oh my God. I pulse, especially as he says, “You have to take way more of me than that.”