Page 141 of Red Marked

If that phone rings, I’m throwing it out the window.

My hand has tightened in her hair.

She comes off me, breathing hard, a string of spit connecting her lip to my cock. She catches it with her thumb and sucks the thumb clean. “Next question.”

“Star…” I lick my lips. “Really?” My balls are pulling tight. I’m ready to explode.

“Yes, this is an interview.”

“How are you at taking direction?” I quickly ask, wanting her mouth on me.

“That depends on who’s giving it.” She sits back on her heels and looks up at me through her lashes, her fist sliding lazily up and down my cock.

I groan.

“Go ahead. Direct me. Let’s see how good I am.”

“Suck harder. And don’t stop this time.”

“Yes, sir.”

Sir.

Holy fuck!

My balls draw up tighter, and she feels it, because she’s holding them. Her eyes crinkle at the corners.

She sucks harder.

She sets a rhythm and keeps it, her lips tight, her tongue working the spot just under the head on every pass, her fist chasing her mouth, her other hand tugging and rolling. The room is full of wet sounds and my breathing. My hips have started moving, and I can’t stop them; short, shallow thrusts into her mouth. She takes them, moaning around me like she’s the one getting something out of this. Maybe she is. Her thighs are pressed together, and she’s rocking on her heels.

Heat coils low in my back.

She lifts off just long enough to ask, “Anything else you need to know?” and she’s on me again before I can answer.

“No. I’ve got…nothing. Star.” I tug her hair. “Please…fuck… I’m going to come. You should…um…stop…”

Instead of stopping, she deep-throats me again.

Her lips are stretched around my cock.

My back bows off the door. I come with a quick shout, my cock jerking on her tongue, and she swallows my cum down. Her throat works around me, again and again, taking every pulse while her fist milks me. Her eyes are watering and locked on mine. Her tits jerk and sway.

I growl and grunt.

When I’ve got nothing left, she gentles. Star cleans me with soft laps of her tongue that make me twitch and hiss. Then she presses a kiss to the tip and sits back on her heels. She wipes the corner of her mouth with one finger.

“Well?” Her voice is hoarse. “Did I get it? Or do I need to be reinterviewed?”

I’m still fighting for breath. I smile.

“You’ve got the job, wiseass.”

41

Flint

The Uber driver pops the trunk and stays behind the wheel, so I take the bags out myself. There’s my old duffel and a new bag we bought for all of Star’s things. It’s practical and will work for the flight back to the center.