Things heat up

She pulled back, just enough to meet his eyes.

“Lie back,” she whispered.

He obeyed without hesitation, easing onto his back, his breathing fast but steady now, his hands falling to the sheets beside him like he didn’t trust them to behave.

Emily followed him down—but not over him this time. She shifted lower, trailing kisses down his chest as she went. The fine hairs below his navel tickled her lips. Her hands smoothed along his sides, then curved inward, tracing the sharp rise of his hipbones.

His cock stood thick and full, arching up toward his stomach—slick from the subtle grinding they'd shared, a sheen of her arousal glistening along the shaft.

She licked her lips.

Then leaned in.

The first touch was with her tongue—flat and slow, from base to tip. She tasted herself instantly. Tangy. Familiar. Hot. Her moan vibrated against his skin, and Eli shuddered violently beneath her.

“Fuck—”

Emily didn’t answer.

She kissed the base of his shaft, then again halfway up, then dragged her tongue along the underside, collecting more of her own wetness with each slow lick. Her hands curled around his thighs, anchoring her as she worked.

He twitched hard when her lips reached the head—slick and flushed, already pulsing with the rhythm of his heartbeat.

She flicked her tongue over the slit.

He gasped.

“God—Emily—”

She smiled, satisfied, then gently wrapped her lips around the tip and drew him into her mouth, just an inch—then pulled back again, licking him with slow, deliberate care. Letting him feel every inch of her attention.

And all the while?

She tasted herself on him.

And that only made her hungrier.

Emily dipped her head again, slower this time, her lips parting wide to take him in—deeper than before, letting the thick crown stretch her mouth. Her tongue curled around the underside of his shaft, tracing every ridge and vein as she moved down with practiced control.

Eli groaned—deep, strained, almost shocked.

She kept going.

Her throat resisted at first—he was just so thick—but she breathed through her nose, tilted her angle, and pushed past the edge. She had experience. Enough to know how to suppress the reflex, to ease into it, to take a man this big even when her eyes were watering and her jaw ached.

And she did.

With a low hum, she buried him deeper than she’d managed the first time. Her lips touched her fingers near the base. Her throat stretched tight around him.

Eli cried out and clutched at the sheets.

“Fuck—Emily—how are you—?”

She didn’t answer.

She swallowed around him.

He bucked, just once, and nearly lost it.

Emily drew back slowly, saliva connecting her lips to the slick, throbbing shaft, her breath hot and ragged. Her hand took over where her mouth left off, stroking him with a wet twist as she caught her breath.

Then she went right back down.

Deeper. Smoother.

Her rhythm built—stronger now, confident, her throat working around him with every stroke, her hand twisting at the base, her tongue flicking wherever she couldn’t reach.

He was unraveling.

Panting. Whispering curses. Desperately trying not to come too fast but failing.

“I’m gonna—I can’t—Emily—”

She didn’t slow.

She moaned around him, and that finished him.

Eli’s whole body locked. He gasped her name and came hard—deep into her mouth, thick spurts pulsing against her tongue.

Emily swallowed. Every drop.

She stayed there, working him gently with her lips and tongue until he twitched with overstimulation and collapsed fully against the mattress.

Only then did she pull off, slow and smooth, licking her lips as she slid up beside him, her palm resting on his chest as it heaved beneath her.

His eyes were closed.

His body wrecked.

And Emily?

Smiling.

“That,” she whispered, leaning in to kiss his cheek, “was just the beginning.”