Page 125

He stops. Tilts his head at me, curious.

I start on his shirt buttons. He wore a proper shirt with a collar for my parents, and I liked that he made the effort. I like even more that I get to take it off him. One button. A kiss on the warm skin underneath. Another button. Another kiss. I work my way down, the way he did with my dress on Sunday, and I can feel him watching the top of my head.

When the shirt is open, I push it off his shoulders and let it drop to the floor. I trace the phoenix’s wings across his ribs with my lips. His stomach tightens under my mouth.

Then the belt. I make a bit of a meal of the buckle, but I get there in the end. I pop the button on his jeans, lower the zip, and push his jeans and boxers down together, crouching to follow them to the floor.

He’s already hard, and his penis is right at my eye level. I can’t help a quick smile at it, then I help him step out of his jeans and boxers, which leaves his socks. I peel them off one at a time while he steadies himself with a hand on my shoulder.

Then I straighten, put both hands on his chest, and push. He sits down on the edge of the bed, then shuffles back towards the pillows and props himself on his elbows, naked and enormous on my flowery duvet.

I, meanwhile, am still fully dressed, right down to my sandals. I kick those off and climb onto the bed after him.

He reaches for the hem of my top, but I catch his wrist and put his hand back down on the duvet.

“Uh-uh,” I say. “Not tonight. Tonight I’m in charge. You just lie back and let me get on with it.”

His mouth twitches. For a second I think he might argue. Then he lies flat and tucks his hands behind his head, as if he’s settling in to watch the telly.

“Whatever you say, flower girl.”

I kneel between his legs. Up close, it’s a lot of penis. I’ve seen it plenty of times now. You’d think I’d be used to it.

Honestly? I’m not hugely confident about what comes next. It’s been a very long time since I’ve done this, and back then I hadn’t the faintest idea what I was doing. But I’m willing to give it a go.

I cup his testicles gently in one hand, and take hold of the base of his shaft with my other. “Ready for your reward?” I ask the head.

Ryan lets out a strangled laugh. “Are you seriously talking to my cock again?”

“I’m not talking to you. Shush.”

Then I lower my head and take the tip of him into my mouth.

He’s warm and smooth, and he tastes of salt and skin. I run my tongue around the head, slowly, then take in a little more of him, then a little more again. I can’t take very much—there’s simply too much of him for that—so I let my hand do the rest, sliding it up to meet my lips. Meanwhile, my other hand is still cradling his testicles, and I tickle them lightly with my fingertips.

Ryan’s breath leaves him in a rush.

When I glance up, his hands are no longer behind his head. They’re fisted in my duvet. So much for settling in to watch the telly.

I go slowly, partly because I’m nervous and partly because I quickly realise that slow is working. And the thing is, Ryan is very easy to read. When my tongue flicks the ridge just under the head, his hips twitch, so I do it again. When I hollow my cheeks and draw my mouth up the length of him, his breath catches, so I do that again too. When I roll his testicles in my palm at the same time, he groans, a deep, rough sound right from the bottom of his chest.

Oh. Oh, I like this.

Every reaction gives me a little more confidence, and every little bit of confidence makes me bolder. I find a rhythm. I try things. Most of them work.

It’s doing things to me too. I press my thighs together because there’s an ache building down there. This great big man who could pick me up with one arm is gripping my duvet like his life depends on it. Because of me. Because of my mouth.

I’ve never felt anything like it. It turns out power is quite the turn-on.

I let him slip out of my mouth and look up at him.

“Is this okay?”

His head comes up off the pillow. “Fuck, flower girl,” he gasps. “You’re very good at that. I’m trying no to blow my load straight away.”

Very good at blowjobs? Me? I can’t help the smile that spreads over my face.

I look back down at his penis. It’s glistening from my mouth and so hard it looks almost painful. Feeling rather pleased with myself, I kiss my way down the whole length of it, from the tip right down to the base, then keep going and kiss his testicles too.