It was hard not to be attracted to him because of that.

And because of everything else, obviously.

Before he had a chance to make the first move, I leaned forward and wrapped my lips around the head of his gigantic cock. There was no way I’d fit his whole length, so I gripped the base of him instead.

He swore viciously, gripping my upper thighs and parting them further.

I bobbed slowly, taking a little more of him, a little deeper.

He gritted out another curse, his fingers digging into my legs so roughly, I wondered if he would break the skin. It would probably feel like a victory if he did.

I wasn’t exactly a professional at blowjobs—this was only my second—but considering he’d never had one before, I wasn’t worried about impressing him.

And the man was clearly enjoying it.

“Stop,” he snarled, and I paused.

I looked back to find his chest heaving, his eyes wild and his nails definitely cutting into my skin. “Too much? Too rough? Or⁠—”

“No. Evve tah.” Triton’s words were sharp, and without hesitation. “If you keep going, you’ll be choking on my release.”

I blinked.

And blinked again.

“You want me to stop so you don’t come in my mouth?”

“I can’t imagine it would be pleasant. My release is far more violent than yours.”

He couldn’t be serious.

But I stared at him for another minute, and saw no sign that he was joking or lying.

The man genuinely told me to stop because he was worried about me tasting his pleasure. I’d read books where men forced their woman to swallow, and if not forced, at least called them good girl for doing it.

Triton was a marshmallow. A huge, gorgeous, sexy marshmallow. And I was absolutely here for it.

“Are you real?” I asked.

His forehead creased. “Yes?”

I laughed. “You don’t sound sure.”

“It’s a strange question.”

“It’s a strange situation.”

“I suppose.” His hands slid further up my thighs. “Just let me pleasure you, Sweetheart.”

“I want you to come in my mouth, Triton.” I lowered my face back to his cock, and his hips jerked violently when I wrapped my lips around him again. “Stop worrying about me. If you can handle my orgasms, I can handle yours. You’re mine, remember?”

As I spoke into his mind, I bobbed slowly, taking him deeper and working the base of his erection with my hand.

He snarled again, and his release flooded my throat.

His fingers bruised my thighs through his climax, his hips jerking and his cock throbbing violently.

He tasted the same way he smelled—like salt and spices—and I couldn’t help but rock my hips as my own need ramped up.

“Arre vah,” he panted, when his climax came to an end.