Page 26 of One Time Only (One Time Only 1)
He stops at my lips. His are a millimeter away. And then he skims them against mine, and I nearly die from how good it feels.
How soft his touch is.
A gentle brush.
A whisper of a kiss.
Until it’s not.
Until he jams the gas pedal and takes this ride from zero to sixty in less than a second. He slams his mouth to mine, spears his tongue inside me, and fucks my mouth.
It’s wild and animalistic.
He’s ruthless with his lips and his tongue.
He’s a powder keg of lust.
I want him to unleash it all on me.
He kisses me like he owns my mouth. With teeth and lips and passion.
He grabs my face harder and jerks me closer, tasting me, licking me. Holy shit. This man is fire. He is nothing but heat and desire. His hand holds my jaw in place, his thumb rubbing along my stubble, as he strokes that wicked tongue inside my mouth again and again.
My cock aches, and I’m desperate for him to touch me, but I’m desperate for something else too.
For him.
When he breaks the kiss, he runs his thumb across my bottom lip then shoves it inside my mouth. I suck on his thumb ravenously, and he groans, then rasps out, “You look like you want your lips stretched around my cock.”
I groan. “Correction: I want my lips stretched around your gorgeous cock.”
Running his thumb over my top lip now, he lifts his chin, all defiant and challenging. “How do you know it’s gorgeous?”
I answer him with actions. I grind down on his dick, moaning as I feel the length of him against my ass. Groaning as I show him how good I can take it when he gives it to me. Then I answer with words too. “I can tell it’s a thing of beauty by how thick it is. How aroused you are.”
I rub on him again, rocking back and forth, driving him wild.
Like I promised.
And I always make good on my bedroom promises.
He shudders. He leans his head back against the seat, his jaw clenched, gritting his teeth.
“Stone.” It comes out strangled, less like an admonition and more like a plea.
I lean closer to him. Bring my mouth to his ear. “Let me suck you off. Let me make you feel good.”
Heat rages across my body. Lust licks my veins.
I slide back so I can drop my hand to his pants, rub my palm across the outline of his erection.
And he hisses.
It’s a carnal sound. It’s the sound of relief, and the sound of wicked want.
Jackson reaches for my hand, grabs it, and presses it firmly against his cock so I can palm his length, and, holy hell, he feels fantastic.
He sounds even better when he utters a harsh command. “Get on your knees. Unzip my pants. And take me to the back of your throat.”
Well, I can’t deny an order like that from my bodyguard.11JacksonStone complies in seconds flat.
He’s glorious to watch—such a performer, and he loves to show off.
Right now, I’m the recipient of all that talent, all that stage presence, as he slides down to the floor of the limo, runs his hands over my thighs, and unsnaps the button on my pants.
His lips crook up.
His grin is so damn wicked.
Dripping with sex indeed.
His eyes flash with filthy intent, and I’m an electrical line, crackling, sparking.
About to snap.
That’s the problem.
It’s been ages.
But my God, his mouth is an instrument of seduction too, even like this, even as he presses his lips against my covered erection, murmuring, “I’m going to suck you so fucking good. You’ll be moaning and groaning and begging to come.”
That’s where he’s wrong.
I’ve got to tell him I won’t last long. Fair’s fair in the bedroom—or the limo, as the case may be.
But once those fingers slide down the zipper, my brain can’t quite make words form on my tongue.
Especially when he tugs at my boxer-briefs.
When he says the filthiest things.
“Show me. Show me that beautiful cock I know you have.” Stone writes an ode to my dick as he frees me from the confines of my briefs.
My cock salutes him, reporting for duty.
Loud and proud.
“Happy birthday to me,” he groans, while I run a hand along the side of his face, roping my fingers through his hair.
“There you go. All for you,” I tell him, my voice rough as my hold on anything but desire fades into the night.
“You’re magnificent,” he says, rubbing his cheek against my dick, and I moan. “I knew it. Knew your dick was going to be a masterpiece. It’s a work of art, man.” Raising his face, he wraps a fist around my length.
“Ahhh,” I moan, because, yeah, my brain can’t access the speech portion anymore.
I can only feel.
I shudder, my breath hot and heavy already as he strokes me. One nice, long, tight stroke all the way to the base and back up, his thumb sliding over the head, swiping a bead of pre-come from the tip. He brings his thumb to his mouth, licking my arousal off, and it’s a miracle I’m not spurting this second.
