I’m mesmerized, watching him slide up and down, faster and faster. Every time the crown of his cock emerges, I’m tempted to take him back into my mouth and make him lose control. But this feels so naughty and too fucking good to stop.

I hear it first, and when I feel it, I glance down and find a pool of spit glistening on my left tit. With two fingers, he rubs it in, painting my areola before he pinches it hard. I cry out, and he pulls again.

“Do you like that, princess? If I reached inside those sweatpants right now, would I find you as wet as these perfect tits?”

Fuck. Wasn’t I supposed to be the one pleasuring him? Why does it feel like I’m seconds away from detonating?

“Eyes on me,” he murmurs.

As soon as I look up, he spits again. I swear to God I may have just peed a little based on the amount of moisture dripping down my thighs. He massages my other breast, then tweaks my nipples in tandem with his thrusts.

“Fuck, Maddie. Fuck. You feel so good. You’re doing so good for me. I’m so fucking close.”

I don’t know what comes over me. I pull back and put him in my mouth again, desperate to finish the job I started. I take him as deep as I can manage, then inhale through my nose and push down farther.

He’s a mess of curses and thrusts, totally in the moment, until he gives me a courtesy tap.

All I’ve wanted for more than a week is to make this man come undone. He’s out of his goddamn mind if he thinks I’m not about to drink down every fucking drop he gives me.

“I’m coming.” He grunts softly as the first shot of cum hits the back of my throat.

I take him deeper and feel out his rhythm, swallowing down his length every time he pulses in my mouth.

“Yes, yes, fuck…” he chants as I drain him completely. Even when he’s empty, I don’t release him. Instead, I lick up and down his length and kiss the tip before finally going still.

My legs are half-asleep below me, so I don’t dare try to stand. I rest my cheek on his thigh, blissed out and teetering on the edge of my own release.

I’m tempted to reach between my thighs and put myself out of my misery. But I know Dempsey would feel obligated to take over, and that’s not what this was about.

After we spend a few peaceful, quiet minutes catching our breath—and Dempsey plays with my hair—I rise up, unashamed, as he drinks in the sight of my bare breasts with a look of total satisfaction.