Another punch of arousal slams into me, nearly knocking the breath from my lungs. Everything about this man is beautiful. Even his cock. That’s not something I’ve ever thought before, but it’s true where Brayden is concerned.
My hands gravitate lower until my fingers can wrap around his hard shaft. Carefully, I stroke him from the root to the very tip before repeating the movement. His cock is steel encased in silk. I’m captivated by the sight of it.
“Fuck,” he groans.
I tip my chin until my gaze can capture his. There’s a heavy-lidded look to him. His eyelids are lowered to half-mast as he watches me from beneath them.
Now that I’ve spent time learning the feel of Brayden, the need to taste him thrums through me until it’s all I can think about. I close the little bit of distance that separates us until my lips are pressed against his sternum. A deep groan rumbles up from his chest. I feel the low vibration of it as my lips hover over his flesh. My tongue darts out to lick him. He tastes fresh and clean as if he showered right before arriving on my doorstep.
Following the same path my fingers took moments ago, I caress him with my mouth, nipping at his skin and the taut muscle that lies beneath. Every inch of him is sculpted perfection. When I reach his navel, I drop to my knees and sit back on my heels before surveying him from this angle. His powerfully built legs are braced apart as if he’s attempting to steady himself on a roiling ship. I’ve witnessed him on the football field and watched how explosive his movements can be when he bursts into action.
At twenty-one years of age, Brayden is all man. There is nothing boyish about him. Desire ignites in my core and dampens my panties. My fingers trail over the crinkly hair that is sprinkled across both his thick thighs and chiseled calves. Every part of him is rock solid.
My gaze fastens on the rigid length standing proudly to attention. A bead of moisture has gathered at the tip. Unable to resist, I lean forward and swipe my tongue across it. Another rumble escapes from him.
Earlier, I had been embarrassed to be caught staring at his dick. Now, I want to look my fill and commit it to memory. My fingers trace over the thickened length, circling over the blunt tip before sliding back to the root. As fascinated as I am by his erection, I can’t resist brushing my fingertips over the heaviness of his balls and learning their texture.
It’s strange to realize that I was wrong in my assessment of his body. Brayden isn’t hard everywhere. His scrotum is soft. I palm one side and then the other. And just like the rest of him, this is big as well. I rise onto my knees to close the distance between us. My tongue flicks over one ball, circling it with the tip of my tongue before sliding over to give the same attention to the other.
“That feels so damn good,” he groans.
I dance beneath the soft flesh of his sac before licking a path to the root of his cock. Only then do I flatten my tongue against him, running it to the crown and circling around the bulbous head before finally sucking him inside my mouth. A hissed breath escapes from his lips. Even though I’ve only just taken him inside me, already I feel the tension that radiates off him in thick waves. It won’t take much for him to lose all semblance of control.
His pelvis tilts forward as his fingers tunnel through my hair, locking around the sides of my skull to hold me in place. I flick my gaze upward, only to find his attention riveted to me. There’s something incredibly intimate about maintaining eye contact while performing this act. It’s not something I always do, but, in this moment, it feels strangely right. I want to savor every expression as it flashes across his face. He stares at me as if my mouth alone could bring him to his knees.
Every time I draw him in deeper, the crown of his cock nudges the back of my throat. With each repetition, I swirl my tongue around the tip. His jaw locks, the muscles ticking. If he clenches it any harder, it’ll shatter into a million jagged pieces.
“Fuck, baby,” he groans, “that’s going to make me come.”
When he attempts to push me away, I give my head a little shake.
“Sydney,” he growls.
“It’s fine,” I say around his length.
“Are you sure?” His voice dances precariously close to the edge, just like he is. And I love it. Love that I have this power over him. That I can so easily make him lose control.