She hadn’t done that yet, and just the thought of watching her honey curls spread around his crotch as she worked him with her mouth made his cock, already stiff with what she’d been giving him, throb.

He wanted that.

But she hadn’t gone there. Not yet. He got her loose and gave her good but he did all the work.

This didn’t bother him. He liked it. Got off on it. Got off on her getting off on it.

But even as he wanted it, her giving this to him now didn’t sit right.

She slid her lips across the waistband of his jeans and his voice was thick when he asked, “You takin’ what you need, Butterfly, or givin’ me what you think I need?”

She tilted her head back, fingers to his fly, and he bit his lip as the pulse in his cock pulled up his balls with just one look at her face.

She was in the zone.

Totally.

“I need to give you what you need,” she whispered.

“Baby, let me give that to you,” he whispered back as she released button two.

She shook her head. “Not this time, sweetheart.”

She couldn’t miss he gave it all but still, it felt good knowing she didn’t.

“Carrie—”

Another button then, “You wanna give that to me, let me.”

She wanted it, he’d be insane not to let her have it.

“Okay, baby, not gonna stop you.”

She smiled. It was soft and barely there but it did something to her eyes that made his entire body clench.

Then she dropped her head, finished with his fly and dug her fingers in at the sides of his jeans to yank them down.

His dick flew free and he heard her swift, hot intake of breath before she went for it.

Not leading into it, like she’d been starved of it, she grabbed hold, positioned him, and took him deep into her wet, hot mouth.

Jesus.

Fuck.

Joker slid down the couch as his head automatically dropped back and he tightened his body against rearing up, taking over, fucking her mouth, which felt so goddamned sweet.

Then she blew him, and Jesus, no holding back, she sucked hard, she pumped with her hand harder, she took him deep. If she needed a break, she gave it licking, rolling, stroking with her fist.

She could be klutzy. She could get so excited she bumped, slammed, scratched, bit, moved one way when he wanted her to go the other. It was cute. It was a turn on. It was her.

But she fucking rocked at giving head.

“Fuck, Carrie,” he groaned, so far gone he almost didn’t have it in him to warn her she was about to swallow, when he lost her.

That was when she went from giving him good to giving him phenomenal.