Was he . . . tutoring her?
Never mind that what he was doing with his fingers between her legs felt divine. Gage was clearly trying to teach her how to ask for what she wanted during sex.
Which means he’s not in the moment.
This was supposed to be a mutually beneficial encounter. She got to end her year-long celibacy without having to risk the demands of a relationship. He got to have sex he actually wanted to have. For fun.
“You’re in gigolo mode, aren’t you?” she asked softly, something within her wilting.
He laughed, but it was tight, and his gaze wavered away from hers. “What?”
If she could narrow her eyes more, she would. As it was, though, she was staring at him through the thick fringe of her lashes already, and nothing was worth losing her current view of naked-man-with-naughty-piercings buffet.
“You are!” she accused. She huffed out a breath. “Snap out of it! You’re over here giving me sex lessons, for fuck’s sake. This is supposed to be fun!”
His lips pursed, momentarily distracting her. “It is fun,” he said. He stroked her sex again, and her angry huffs of breath hitched, but she could clearly see the gears still working behind his rich, chocolate eyes.
Not fun enough.
Okay, so she might not be good at the whole demanding-what-she-wanted-in-bed thing. That did not mean she wasn’t good at sex. And he was about to get a firsthand demonstration of that.
She gathered all her abilities for complex thought close, because as Gage continued to stroke her sex despite their current disagreement, thinking was definitely hard.
If I were a gigolo, what is the one thing I’d really want that my clients probably wouldn’t do for me?
Well, that was an easy answer. And, damn it, she wasn’t excited about it—she hated the taste of latex—but she was going to do it. And with a good attitude.
With Herculean effort, she eased away from his fingers.
“Hey.” He clutched at her ass with both hands. “I’m sorry. I won’t talk anymore, I promise.”
She paused. His words were . . . frantic. The look in his eyes was slightly wild.
Hmm. Maybe he is having more fun than I gave him credit for. Because one thing was for certain: Gage wanted this to go on. Badly.
She leaned forward and brushed her lips to his. “Not going anywhere,” she murmured. She leaned back again with an easy smile, and then she dismounted Gage’s lap, though he relinquished his hold on her reluctantly.
She walked toward the nest of his clothes.
“You sure you’re not going anywhere?” his rough voice asked from behind her. “Because you seem to be walking away.”
“Just enjoy the view, gorgeous.”
He scoffed. “Like I wasn’t already.”
She plucked the box of condoms out of his pants, and as she tore into it, she turned around. She almost tripped over her feet.
Gage’s hand was wrapped around his impressive dick and was stroking up and down slowly while his hooded gaze clapped on the apex of her thighs. The overhead light glinted off his piercing with every pass of his hand.
“Whatcha doing?” she asked, her voice a little breathy.
“Enjoying that view. I can follow directions.”
She pressed her knees together, and Gage’s gaze flicked down and then back up to her sex again in the span of one blink. He made no announcements, but she had picked up on the fact that Gage saw every signal her body gave. She breathed, and he took a mental note. It was unnerving and exhilarating at the same time.
And, since he seemed to be thoroughly entertained at present, she indulged in a little noticing of her own.
How does a man look bigger without his clothes on? She seriously wanted to know. Was that a phenomenon all big men shared? Or was it specific to Gage?
There was nothing in her own life she could pull from to help answer the question. She slept with convenient partners. That meant co-workers usually or guys who ran in her circle: computer nerds. Hard to get large sitting in a basement fiddling with code every waking hour.
Gage had to spend hours a day in a gym. She knew from the anatomy research required for the animations she worked on that a guy didn’t get this kind of muscle definition easily. Many of the models they’d used for sketches at work had always complained about both the diet and the gym regimen they had to follow.
God, whatever the cost, Gage’s body was the best payoff she’d ever seen. The gaming chair that swallowed her body whenever she played looked like a miniature beneath his sprawled frame.
He’s so gorgeous. With those facial features that were almost too lush and pretty for a man and all that hair, he’d been hot with his clothes on. But now? Massive slabs of muscle met her eyes wherever she looked, although he wasn’t bulky; he was lean. Cut. With a low enough body fat percentage that each time he moved, his muscles flickered noticeably beneath his tanned skin. Tanned skin that had absolutely no tan lines. Lord, if he laid out somewhere to get that color, she wanted the location, STAT.
As she watched him stroke himself off, his biceps and pecs flexing and his eyes still glued to her body, she didn’t know if she wanted to jump him or grab her sketchpad.
Can’t I do both?
Maybe later. Right now, she definitely wanted to have something bigger than a charcoal pencil in her hand.
She pulled the foil packets from the box far enough to tear one off and then dropped the box of condoms back in the clothes on the floor.
His gaze finally darted to something that was not her body. He frowned at the condom in her hand. His fist stilled mid-stroke. “Already?”
Disappointed? She’d never been with someone who wasn’t eager to see the foreplay part of things end. She kissed the last thread of her complaints goodbye. It didn’t matter how nasty latex tasted. This guy was getting a blowie.
“Yes and no.” She walked back to him, and his biceps flexed again, indicating he’d tightened his grip on himself as she moved closer. She knelt between his massive, spread thighs.
He reached out and brushed some hair from her forehead—a surprisingly tender move in her opinion. “Welcome back,” he murmured.
“Thanks.” And then she brushed his hand away from his erection. He put up no fight. Whether that was because he wanted to see what she was going to do next or he’d learned his lesson earlier about coaching her, she didn’t know, but it got her closer to her goal, so she wasn’t going to question it. She’d planned on simply rolling the condom down his length and taking him into her mouth, but now that she was close up to his extremely aroused dick, her plans changed slightly.
She leaned to the left until she was resting against the inside of his thigh. His warmth seeped through her skin and, contrarily, sent goose bumps chasing over her entire body. The soft scratch of his leg hair made her want to nuzzle his leg with her cheek, but before she could do so, his fingers skimmed along her hairline to her ear, where he sifted them through the hair trailing down to her neck.
For some reason, the affection made her throat tight. Damn, it’s definitely been too long. Pulling herself back together, she draped her arm over his leg, getting more comfortable. The move had the added advantage of bringing her breast into direct contact with his inner thigh, so she wiggled a bit, making sure to brush her sensitive skin against his.
He sucked in a breath, and his fingers stilled in her hair. Success. While he was distracted, she dove in, her free hand traveling to the crown of his erection. She traced a circle around the ridge with her pointer finger, and the muscles in his abdomen bunched in her peripheral vision. She smoothed over one of the cool, steel balls of his piercing. He made an odd noise in his throat, so she did it again. This time, his fingers tightened in her hair, giving a slight, delicious pull to her scalp. “Did this hurt?” she asked, moving her finger to the other steel ball.
He snorted. “Like the fires of hell.”
His tone was so grave, she paused. Her gaze traveled to his, and she tilted her head. “Then, why do it? I mean, not that I’m complaining, but . . .why?”
He shrugged with one shoulder, and his gaze slid away from hers. “For work.”
Ah. Well, that might put a damper on the sexiness factor. For some asinine reason, she didn’t like that this piercing was for a horde of faceless women.
She straightened, reluctantly withdrawing her arm from around his leg. Sitting back on her heels, she ripped open the condom.
His fingers tightened in her hair again. If he weren’t careful, she was really going to start liking that. “There’s really no hurry, Cassidy.”
“Trust me. I’m not hurrying.” She placed the condom on the crown of his dick. “Ready?”
Something like disappointment flashed in his eyes. “Ready.”
Silly man. It was a snug fit, but she rolled the condom down, taking extra care with his piercing. By the time she was done, her breathing was a little rough. So was his for that matter. With one hand, she tried to wipe off as much of the spermicide as possible. With her other hand, she trailed the pad of her finger down the heavy sack beneath his erection.
He sucked in a breath. “Shit,” he murmured, the beginning glimmer of excitement tinging his voice.
Ah, catching on, are we?
The delicate skin between his legs began to pucker beneath her finger as she stroked. The throbbing between her legs grew insistent.
She leaned forward, her breasts meeting her own hand where she fondled his sack. He groaned softly, and she looked up at his face. His gaze was glued on her breasts. She flicked a quick glance down again.
Hot damn. Pressed up against his body this way, she was actually sporting some cleavage. His testicles were nestled right between her breasts, and his sheathed dick rose up proudly toward her chin.
They looked pretty good together.
Correction: we look fucking hot together.
“Not a bad view, huh?” he asked in a husky voice.
She shook her head. “Not at all.” She looked up at his face again, winked, and then took his dick in hand. As she leaned in, the muscles of his abdomen dipped. She was smiling as she took her first lick—enjoying herself so much that the harsh taste of the condom barely made her wrinkle her nose.
Gage grunted, and next Cassidy knew, his hands were off her, clutching his thighs instead. She flicked a quick glance at each and saw that the tips of his fingers were blanched white. Keeping her gaze trained on his left hand, she licked again and felt a little thrill when his fingers flexed.
It seems she’d found just the thing to get him into the game. She drew back just enough to ask, “Like it?”
He didn’t say anything, instead breathing a laugh that was its own clear answer.
She pressed a soft kiss to his tip. “Then you say, ‘Fuck me with your mouth, Cassidy.’”
With a groan, Gage wove both hands into her hair. “Fuck me with your mouth, Freckles.” His fingers tightened in her hair, nearly making her groan as well. “Please.”
Freckles? She couldn’t decide if she was okay with that or not, so she saved it to ponder for later. The husky, urgent edge to his voice sent butterflies through her stomach. With a soft sound in the back of her throat, she opened her lips over the crown of his erection and sucked him into her mouth.
“Shit.” The curse was so soft she barely heard it, but it was definitely there. Made a gigolo curse. She could live off that for a while.
The smooth balls of his piercing stroked the roof of her mouth: a preview of what it’d do inside of her that made her nearly leap into his lap immediately. But his massive thighs trembled just the slightest bit against Cassidy’s shoulders; she couldn’t cut this short.
She sucked him deeper until he prodded the back of her throat and swirled her tongue at the edges of the piercing. He palmed the back of her head with one hand and made a harsh noise from deep in his chest.
Though she could feel the power behind the hand on her head, he didn’t use any force—no shoving her down, like the first guy she’d given head to. No thrusting. Makes me want to reward him. She pulled back until she nearly released him from her mouth, and then she sucked him back in again, swallowing when he was pressed to the back of her throat.
He bit off another curse, and this time, he did move. “Okay, we’re done with that.” The hand on the back of her head moved to beneath her chin, and he pulled her off him.
She relinquished her prize with an audible pop. “What? I’m not done.”
He hauled her up with two giant hands to her rib cage, settling her over his thighs. “Trust me, Cassidy. You’re done, or we both are.”
Beneath her bottom, the tremble in his thighs was intense—nothing like the little shimmy it had been when she’d first started licking at his cock. “Wait.” She tilted her head. “You were going to nut? Just from that?”
He breathed that same, tight laugh and then, in an obvious bid to distract her, brushed his fingers over her clit again.
It nearly worked, but she wasn’t going to let this slide. “I thought you were a gigolo.”
He sighed. “Supposed to be, yeah.”
Was that pressure in her chest a giggle? From sex lessons to a near premature ejaculation in the span of five minutes. “I’ve got some major mojo, huh?”
“Okay, Freckles, yes, you’ve got major mojo. Can we please fuck now?”
She sniffed, her chest still tight from suppressed laughter. “Well, not if you’re going to be a dick about it.”
His lips parted. “A dick—” He raised an eyebrow, and that was all the warning she got.
Next she knew, she was sprawled on the floor, a massive and gorgeous sex worker kneeling between her spread thighs. And he was tickling her. Tickling her.
“What the fuck?” she squealed as his fingers tripped over her ribs and up to her armpits.
“Nope,” Gage said, tickling up her neck. “Can’t talk now. Too busy being a dick about it.”
“Gage—” She cut off with a shriek as he found the extremely sensitive spot at the end of her ribcage. “Gage! Jesus, how are you so good at this?” No matter how she squirmed, his fingers managed to find new methods of torture.
“Gigolo, remember?”
As if I could forget. “And that has to do with tickling, how?”
He grinned wickedly. “You really want to know?” His fingers skimmed down her thighs to the backs of her knees.
She was laughing so hard now, it was difficult to speak, but she managed to blurt, “No! I don’t.”
His fingers moved toward her feet.
“Okay, okay!” She jerked her feet from his hands, spreading her legs wide. “We can fuck now!”
Before she could draw another breath, his chest was pressed to hers and his hips were settled between her thighs. The long, hot brand of his erection pressed right against her sex. She blinked up at him, both of their breathing ragged.
His deep brown eyes sparkled. “Right where I wanted you.” He flexed his hips, entering her the slightest bit.
Her erratic breathing hitched. Her heart still pounded from laughing so hard, and her body was having trouble keeping up with the swift switch of gears. Around his dick, her body went liquid, flushing hot.
He pulled back, leaving her, and her hands flew to his shoulders where she gripped tightly, moaning at the loss. She canted her hips, chasing his body with hers automatically, which was apparently exactly what he wanted her to do, because with a soothing noise, he palmed her ass with one hand and thrust again, this time entering her fully and seating himself until his pubic bone met hers.
Her head tipped back, and she bit out a curse. He was big. Uncomfortably so. Just when she was starting to panic, however, she realized he wasn’t moving. He hadn’t thrust inside her body and immediately started going to town. He was giving her body time to adjust, and while he was doing that, he was pressing soft kisses along her cheek.
Within seconds, the soft press of his lips to her skin was driving her a little wild, and the fact that he wasn’t moving manifested itself in a tight coil deep in her gut.
She trailed her hands down from his shoulders, scraping her nails lightly along his back, until she could grab hold of his firm ass. Clutching him tightly with both hands, she ground against him, chasing the pressure she needed against her clit almost frantically.
He shifted his hips just the slightest bit, and suddenly, she had what she’d been seeking. He rotated against her, sending shivers up her spine and all through her body. She moaned harshly.
He pressed a kiss to her jaw just below her ear. “Right there?” he asked in a husky whisper.
“FuckJesusyes.”
His breathy chuckle wafted through her senses. He continued to press kisses down her neck while languidly stirring his hips. He wasn’t thrusting, and that’s what confused her, because she was about to shoot the top of her head off in a blinding orgasm, and the man was barely moving.
Talk about your major mojo. I’m never sleeping with a non-gigolo again.
Amid another rotation of his hips, his hand moved up from her flank to cup her right breast. He squeezed at just the point of most devastating pressure against her clit, and followed the squeeze by smoothing his thumb across her painfully pebbled nipple.
I’m definitely going to come. There was no stopping it, and it was going to be embarrassingly strong. The muscles of his ass flexed in her hands at the same, measured tempo, but everything inside her body went on high alert. She stiffened.
“Don’t fight it, Freckles,” he whispered against her collarbone, thumbing her nipple once more. “You’ve got plenty more coming, so just let it happen.”
“Oh, God,” she murmured, her fingers curving into his meaty ass. She stopped resisting, and at once, pleasure flooded her entire body, shooting outward from where they were joined.
As lights shot behind her squeezed-tight eyelids, Gage began to move. He kneed her legs wider, pulled back his hips, and thrust into her hard. Then he thrust again. And again.
By the fourth time he thrust, her orgasm had reached new heights. Can I die from pleasure? A broken, high-pitched sound was escaping her lips, and the muscles of her sex were constricting so violently, she was sure she was going to be sore tomorrow.
Gage growled into her skin, and as she came down from the orgasm to end all orgasms, he lifted his head and looked into her eyes, never once breaking the stride of his measured, rough thrusts. “Okay?”
Is he kidding? She nodded her head vigorously, stroking up from his ass to his back, wincing as her fingers discovered welts her nails had left behind.
“Good.” He smiled. “Hold on tight. The second one’s always easy.”
The second one? Before she could think harder on that, he shifted the angle of his thrusts. Now the hard ridge of his piercing hit a spot inside her that made her gasp so hard, she nearly swallowed her tongue. “Gage!” she pleaded, not quite understanding what she was asking for. Mercy? More? Harder?
Apparently, all three. And somehow, he understood. Lowering his head, he sucked her turgid nipple into his mouth. At the same time, he added a twist of his hips at the end of every thrust so not only was his piercing driving her crazy, but he ground against her clit as well.
“Oh, shit.”
With no warning at all, she was thrown headlong into another orgasm.
The easy second one. Of course. Because that was, apparently, a thing.
This second orgasm was much shorter than the first, but no less intense. By the time she could think again, his thrusts had slowed and gentled.
She could feel a fine sheen of perspiration along her chest and neck, and she couldn’t figure out why—she hadn’t really been doing anything. Her sex continued to spasm around Gage’s dick.
“I . . . feel like . . . I’m getting the better . . . end of the deal,” she gasped, stroking from his shoulders down to the muscles of his arms that bulged with holding up his weight.
He shook his head, his smile lopsided. “From my angle, I seem to be getting a pretty good deal.”
She raised her eyebrows. “Then, maybe you need a different angle.”
Wrapping her legs around his knees, she pressed against his chest with both hands, rolling them until they were flipped. She’d managed to keep them joined, making her look smoother than she was. She planted her knees on either side of his hips, rose up, and sank down heavily on his dick. With a smile, she asked, “How’s this angle?”