Her fingers flex, digging into my muscles before sliding into the material of my boxers. She pushes downward, making room and freeing me. My cock comes out of her mouth, then she’s nuzzling my balls with her lips.

Christ.

She licks them, pulls them into her mouth, and sucks gently and I’m having a crisis of faith in this moment. I’m not sure I’ve ever had a blow job this good.

She makes a deep sound of frustration, perhaps needing more. Her hands go back to tugging at my pants, then she’s back on my dick. She grips my hips and, once again, she’s using leverage to pull me into her throat. When she swallows, her muscles ripple around me.

Her hands move gently on my legs, sliding down, moving to the front and taking my clothing with her. She’s expertly stripping me, and it’s almost like a choreographed dance—she’s that fucking good at it.

My heart stammers a moment when her fingertips encounter the top part of the scar on my thigh. She doesn’t falter, only continues to explore my body at her leisure while she fucks me with her mouth.

I ignore her curious fingers running along the internal width of the scar. Ever so gently, she traces the bumps and ridges, but she never misses a beat while my cock moves in and out of her mouth, breaching her throat with every thrust.

And I am thrusting.

My hips are moving, and I can’t help myself.

I cup her face, starting to pump into her. She stares with wide, trusting eyes while her fingers still move over my scar, then down the front of my thigh until she reaches the jagged point at the end just above my kneecap.

My breathing turns erratic as I concentrate not only on the feel of her, but also on the way in which she’s letting me use her. Her mouth is an open vessel—her throat a private affair. And yet, she’s granted me complete access.

Elena’s hands slide to the back of my thighs. She shifts again, taking me in deeper.

“Going to come,” I mutter, more to myself than for her benefit. I know without a doubt Elena would never want me to pull out.

As if to prove theory, she swallows me down deeper than before as she moans loudly. The vibrations skitter all over my cock, and it’s my undoing.

My hands tighten on her face, my hips thrusting forward causing her to choke slightly, but then I hold perfectly still as I start to come into her throat. She swallows repetitively, drinking me down, and I swear I think I come a second time as another violent wave of pleasure hits me.

It seems to go on and on, my vision dimming a moment before turning brighter. The entire time, my eyes stay locked on Elena’s, and she’s staring with such intensity I swear a third shudder of ecstasy hits me.

“Fuck,” I mutter, which seems to be about all the English language I can muster right now as I gently pull my hips back to withdraw from her mouth. Her hand comes up, delicately wipes at her lips and chin, and then she sits back on her haunches to smile in triumph.

She looks magnificent. Lips swollen and red, her breast still hanging out of her dress, and her eyes sparkling because that turned her on as much as it did me.

Quite sure it’s not going to take much to coax another hard-on for me to fuck her.

Elena lifts a hand, reaches out, and touches a fingertip to my scar again. I freeze, not suspecting such a bold move now the haze of passion has dimmed a bit. Her eyes go there, and she once again traces the length of it as my pants are now pooled around my knees.

“What happened?” she asks as her gaze rises to meet mine.

“Car accident,” I mutter, reaching down to pull my pants up.

“Don’t,” she murmurs, her hands moving to stop me. “You’re beautiful, and I’d like to see more.”

We engage in a staring contest, me gripping my pants and her hands gently on mine.

“I mean,” she continues in a cajoling tone. “You’ve seen me naked and well, I want to see you.”

I swallow past the dryness in my throat, but no words come out. I have no idea what to say because what she’s asking is very intimate.

It’s not that I haven’t shown my body at The Wicked Horse because I have. I’ve gotten naked in the middle of The Orgy Room, and I had a hedonistic fucking ball.

But those times before Elena, I didn’t give a fuck what anyone thought of me. I didn’t care if my scar turned them on or off, and I most certainly wasn’t looking at their needs. Before Elena, it was all about just getting off.

It’s different with her. I’ve found feeling in giving in to her. I was lost to the sensation the first time she came, and I realized it was a power that made me feel good.

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