HER FINGERS WERE cool around my aching dick, but the look in those deep-midnight eyes was anything but. The same look she’d given me back when she was sixteen and she unwrapped the present I’d given her, shy yet hopeful, and a little hungry.
Or, no. The expression in her eyes now was more adult than that, the hunger more pronounced, making it clear that the presence of my ruined torso didn’t bother her.
I might have thought she was faking it if she hadn’t traced all those scars with her fingers, a look of concentration on her pointed face. Hadn’t talked about broken bowls repaired with gold becoming works of art, their scars making them unique.
I didn’t want that to matter quite as much as it did now, when I’d made peace with my scars long ago.
Have you, though?
I ignored that thought, just as I’d ignored how her eyes had filled with tears after I’d taken off my shirt, along with shock and sympathy and pain. And part of me regretted that. Regretted that I’d caused her yet more hurt.
But there was nothing to be done about it. Better that she should know the truth, that it wasn’t only about not wanting to answer questions or talk. That there was something real behind all of this. I owed her that much.
I didn’t know why she was still here, though. Why she’d come into the bathroom instead of backing away. Why she’d touched me and talked to me about scars made of gold instead of turning round and leaving. I wasn’t the handsome, patient, successful friend any more. Her big brother surrogate. I was scarred and surly and I didn’t give a fuck, and yet still she was here. Still she’d touched me, when no other woman had ever done so, not after I’d come out of hospital.
And now she had her fingers around my cock, and my heart was in my throat, and if she walked away now, I didn’t know what I’d do.
Back then she’d been the only one who’d seemed to care about the person I was beneath the football star. The only one who’d ever asked me what it was that I wanted from my life. Not what my dad, my mom, my coach or my fans wanted. I remember being surprised at the question, because I hadn’t even known. I’d never been given the chance to find out.
Not that any of that mattered right now. Not with her fingers around my aching cock, ink-blue eyes finally looking up into mine, lit with heat and hunger.
And she was looking at me. Not Eli Hart, football superstar. Not even Elias Hart, CEO of Howard and Hart, one of the US’s fastest-rising security and defence companies. She was looking at me, the man I was beneath those two personas.
And who is that?
But I didn’t want to think about that, not when her hand was around me, and the hunger for her to which I’d been trying not to pay any attention had me riveted.
She smelled good, of sex and sweetness, and I was done talking. And if she was touching me then it seemed as if she was done talking as well.
‘What do you want me to do?’ Her gaze fell to my mouth and stayed there. ‘I’ll do anything you want, just tell me.’
Who could resist a husky, desperate offer like that? Not me. She’d seen how damaged I was, and yet she was still here, so what the hell?
I squeezed her hand around my dick, letting her get the feel of me. ‘You think you can handle that?’
Her lashes, long and thick and black, framed those pretty, pretty eyes. ‘Yes. Let me.’
‘What would you do if I said no?’ A tease and a test.
The necklace I’d given her glittered in the light as she swallowed. ‘I don’t know. Probably cry.’
Her mouth quirked but I knew that she was only half joking; and the fact that she was desperate for me only made my cock ache all the more.
It was wrong to keep going, to take more from her when I knew her crush on me hadn’t abated. When tonight was all I had to give her. But I was a selfish, selfish man and, if she wanted me, who was I to argue?
‘You want to suck me, little girl?’ I asked, my voice rasping.
She gave a jerky nod, her breath catching, obviously turned on by the thought.
‘Good.’ I grabbed a towel from the nearby rail and handed it to her. ‘Then it’s time to get comfortable. Put this on the floor and kneel.’ The white tiles wouldn’t be easy to kneel on and I didn’t want her distracted.
She did as she was told, letting go of my cock as she arranged the towel and then knelt on it. ‘I haven’t done this before,’ she said, as if I wasn’t already aware of just how inexperienced she was. ‘So you might have to tell me what to do.’ She gave me a naughty glance from underneath her lashes. ‘I’m assuming you won’t have a problem with that.’
Sexy, sexy Vee.
I liked her being flirty. It made me want to flirt in return. But I was so fucking rusty, I didn’t think I’d be much fun.
‘You’d assume correctly.’ I gestured. ‘Take your dress off.’
She didn’t hesitate, pulling the fabric up and off, then tossing it onto the floor, leaving her kneeling in front of me, naked and gorgeous. Her blue gaze had darkened, her red lips parting in anticipation as I stepped up to her. She stared at me as if she was starving and I was something delicious to eat.
‘Give me your hand.’ I held out mine and she reached for it without hesitation.
Her long, slender fingers were cool, the dark blue nail polish gleaming like liquid midnight in the light of the bathroom. Slowly I drew her hand to my cock. ‘Feel free to explore,’ I murmured. ‘Use your hand, and you can use your mouth too. I’ll tell you if there’s something I’m not enjoying.’
‘You promise?’ She was breathing very fast and I could see the flash of anxiety in her eyes. ‘I want this to be good for you, Eli.’
I couldn’t imagine why she’d want that after the way I’d treated her, but hell, I wasn’t going to argue. I didn’t understand why she’d think it wouldn’t be good for me, either. Then again, if she’d never done this before, then maybe it wasn’t such a surprise. After all, it wasn’t as if she’d had lots of people in her life telling her she was doing a good job.
‘Relax,’ I said softly. ‘Basically you can’t do this wrong, okay? Anything you do is going to be good for me.’
Something in her gaze shifted, the anxiety bleeding away. ‘Okay.’
‘Good. Now get to it. I’m having bad thoughts about that mouth of yours, but I want you to have a chance to play first.’
She flushed, then dropped her gaze to my dick. Then she began to explore.
I usually didn’t allow a woman to touch me this way. Sometimes I got them to suck me off, but it was only that—a blow job, nothing fancy. I didn’t let them run soft fingers up my shaft and then over the sensitive head. I didn’t allow them to stroke me, to tease me, to close their hand around me and squeeze.
Her touch was gentle and light, and it was maddening. I watched her face as she did so, her eyes wide. Every so often she’d glance up at me, and I let her see what she was doing to me. She blushed every time, that flush going down her neck and across her chest, yet she didn’t look away. She kept staring at me the way she used to. As if I was someone she liked very much and liked being with. Someone who gave her joy. She obviously got a lot of pleasure out of what she was doing to me, and she didn’t hide it.
I got off on that as much as the feel of her fingers on my skin. In fact, it was surprising how much her pleasure got me off too, and how my pleasure fed into hers. A connection of sorts that I didn’t get with a woman in a blindfold. That I hadn’t got with the women from my football days, either, if I was honest.
Because for her to find pleasure in getting me off, it had to matter. She had to matter. And Vesta did. She always had.
I murmured things to her, softly at first, and then my voice got deeper, rougher, as she drove me insane with those light, exploratory touches. Pleasure curved like lightning down my spine as she leaned in and began to use her mouth, her tongue hesitant at first, then gaining in confidence as she touched it to the head of my cock.
‘Yes,’ I growled emphatically. ‘Fuck yes.’
Obviously taking on board the encouragement, she gripped me tighter as she began to explore down my shaft, licking and squeezing, making me grit my teeth as the pleasure sunk deeper. My hands were in fists and I wanted to let her explore a bit more, get comfortable with me, but she tested my control.
I reached for her, sliding my fingers into her short, silky hair, gripping tight. She made a little sound, but it wasn’t one of protest, more of relief. As if she wanted me to take control. Good, because I did.
‘Open up,’ I ordered and she did. And then I was guiding my cock into her mouth and she was closing her lips around me.
Hot and wet. Slick. Fucking heaven.
She relaxed against me, one hand gripping the base of my dick, her hair brushing my abdomen. I couldn’t feel it, but I could see it, just as I could see her pretty mouth around my cock. So fucking erotic.
‘Look at me,’ I commanded.
Her lashes lifted, her gaze meeting mine, wide and dark, glazed with desire. Pretty Vee, all flushed and hot, with her mouth full of my cock.
I guided her head on me, showed her what I wanted her to do, and she did it, sucking me deep. The pressure was fucking amazing. The pleasure was indescribable. I thrust deeper into her mouth, going faster, and she moaned, her grip on me tightening. Then she put her other hand on my thigh, gripping me there to keep her balance.
It was a beautiful sight to watch her suck me, to watch my cock move in and out of her mouth, to see her beautiful naked body, her round breasts bouncing with every thrust of my hips.
Vee on her knees, worshipping me...
It was getting too much but I didn’t want to stop. I couldn’t.
‘I’m going to come in your mouth,’ I said, and it wasn’t a request.
She only gripped me tighter, so I let myself go, thrusting into her mouth until the pleasure pulled tight then crested, a current electrifying me. I groaned, my fingers twisted in her hair as the climax hit, and I felt her lips tighten around my cock, her throat moving as she swallowed me down.
So fucking hot.
I couldn’t move after that, my eyes closed as my heartbeat slowly normalised, short, sharp electric shocks still moving through me. Her hands slid down my thighs and then around me, and I could feel the warmth of her body against my legs. I had some sensation on my lower abdomen, and could feel the silkiness of her hair and the soft brush of her lips as she kissed me. She leaned against me, holding me as if it was me holding her upright and not the other way round.
The simple affection implicit in her hold made my chest tighten. It had been a long time since I’d had any physical comfort, because I didn’t allow it. And I’d told myself that I didn’t need it, that I was fine with my weekly Friday night sessions with the women I hired.
But Vee’s arms around me, holding me, the warmth of her against me... It seemed I was wrong. Maybe I did need it after all.
The thought was uncomfortable for reasons I couldn’t quite articulate so I moved, gently untangling my fingers from her hair and pulling away from her.
She looked up at me, a crease between her brows. ‘Was that okay?’
I held her gaze. ‘It was more than okay. You wanted to blow my goddamned mind? Well, you blew that as thoroughly as my cock.’
Pink tinged her cheeks and she gave me the most self-satisfied smile. ‘Well, excellent.’
I reached down and picked her up, loving how she instantly put her arms around my neck, as if we’d been doing this together for years and not just one night.
‘So, what now?’ she asked, looking up at me.
‘Now?’ I flashed her the ghost of my old smile. ‘Now it’s your turn.’