Read Online Strength & Courage (The Night Horde SoCal Book 1) by Susan Fanetti - Free Book Online
Authors: Susan Fanetti
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to extricate themselves or how to figure out what the other was thinking. He’d just come back into the room, started talking, and gotten back into bed, as if he assumed that she was of the same mind he was.
That was weird. Wonderfully so. She’d never met somebody so comfortable with himself—really comfortable, not that faux ‘don’t-give-a-fuck’ attitude some guys had that was really extreme self-consciousness disguised.
Even though she hadn’t thought she’d known her own mind, his easy demeanor made her understand. She was comfortable. However this interlude ended, she felt sure it would be pleasant and easy, with no hard feelings. And that was liberating as hell.
Feeling exhilarated and free, Sid rolled to her side and put her hand on his magnificent chest. She brushed down, savoring the way her palm rose and fell over the sculpted contours of his muscles. As her hand moved lightly over his belly and under the sheet, his skin quivered, and he hissed in a deep, slow breath.
She wrapped her hand around him and slid her palm up and down his thick length.
“Yeah, hon. Okay.” His voice was rough. Sid looked up and saw that he’d closed his eyes, and his jaw was so tense the muscles at the corners were twitching. That was so hot. She shifted down on the bed until her head was in line with his hips.
She wasn’t really a fan of giving head, and she’d never gone down on anybody who wasn’t an actual boyfriend. It was a lot more intimate, in Sid’s opinion, than intercourse. And probably not the most safety-conscious choice she could make right now. Moreover, Muse’s size was such that she knew there was no way she’d be able to deep-throat him—and he would hurt her if he did that thing that guys did where her mouth suddenly became just a convenient hole they could fuck. She really hated that.
But his breath was loud and uneven already, and he’d arched his neck up in mere anticipation of her mouth on him. And she felt good. He’d already fucked her clear through a hangover, and now he’d dispensed with the post-coital awfulness without even trying. She wanted his cock in her mouth. She wanted to make him feel good, too.
She licked his tip, and his hips came up off the bed. She sucked him into her mouth, just a few inches, and his hands went into her hair and grabbed hold.
That scared her, and she pulled away. “Easy.”
He opened his eyes and smiled down at her. “I won’t hurt you.”
She trusted him. Dumb, but true. So she wrapped her hands around him and took as much of him as she could into her mouth, sucking and licking, squeezing, rubbing, bobbing until his every exhale was a pained groan and all the muscles in his belly had knotted into perfect, brilliant definition. His hands were fists tangled in her hair, but he didn’t try to move her, and he held his hips still.
She knew he was close; his entire body was as hard as his cock. With a sharp, surprising yank, he pulled her head off of him. “I need more, hon. Fuck!”
Not understanding what that meant, she loosened her grip on him, prepared to…what? Pull away? What more did he need? But his hands went around hers, around him, and he gripped them hard, squeezing her hands tightly around his cock. And then his hips moved—fast, hard, and quick—and he shouted and came all over their hands and his belly.
Panting, he dropped back to the pillows. Sid kissed his chest and climbed over him and off the bed. She went into the bathroom and washed her hands, then grabbed a clean hand towel from her linen closet and brought it back for him. He took it with thanks and wiped himself up.
While she sat and watched him stroke his belly with her towel, a touch of awkward uncertainty seeped in on the edges of her good mood. She wanted to ask him a question, but she didn’t want to sound needy or whatever. But that was the dance they’d been avoiding.
So, fine, then. She’d
That was weird. Wonderfully so. She’d never met somebody so comfortable with himself—really comfortable, not that faux ‘don’t-give-a-fuck’ attitude some guys had that was really extreme self-consciousness disguised.
Even though she hadn’t thought she’d known her own mind, his easy demeanor made her understand. She was comfortable. However this interlude ended, she felt sure it would be pleasant and easy, with no hard feelings. And that was liberating as hell.
Feeling exhilarated and free, Sid rolled to her side and put her hand on his magnificent chest. She brushed down, savoring the way her palm rose and fell over the sculpted contours of his muscles. As her hand moved lightly over his belly and under the sheet, his skin quivered, and he hissed in a deep, slow breath.
She wrapped her hand around him and slid her palm up and down his thick length.
“Yeah, hon. Okay.” His voice was rough. Sid looked up and saw that he’d closed his eyes, and his jaw was so tense the muscles at the corners were twitching. That was so hot. She shifted down on the bed until her head was in line with his hips.
She wasn’t really a fan of giving head, and she’d never gone down on anybody who wasn’t an actual boyfriend. It was a lot more intimate, in Sid’s opinion, than intercourse. And probably not the most safety-conscious choice she could make right now. Moreover, Muse’s size was such that she knew there was no way she’d be able to deep-throat him—and he would hurt her if he did that thing that guys did where her mouth suddenly became just a convenient hole they could fuck. She really hated that.
But his breath was loud and uneven already, and he’d arched his neck up in mere anticipation of her mouth on him. And she felt good. He’d already fucked her clear through a hangover, and now he’d dispensed with the post-coital awfulness without even trying. She wanted his cock in her mouth. She wanted to make him feel good, too.
She licked his tip, and his hips came up off the bed. She sucked him into her mouth, just a few inches, and his hands went into her hair and grabbed hold.
That scared her, and she pulled away. “Easy.”
He opened his eyes and smiled down at her. “I won’t hurt you.”
She trusted him. Dumb, but true. So she wrapped her hands around him and took as much of him as she could into her mouth, sucking and licking, squeezing, rubbing, bobbing until his every exhale was a pained groan and all the muscles in his belly had knotted into perfect, brilliant definition. His hands were fists tangled in her hair, but he didn’t try to move her, and he held his hips still.
She knew he was close; his entire body was as hard as his cock. With a sharp, surprising yank, he pulled her head off of him. “I need more, hon. Fuck!”
Not understanding what that meant, she loosened her grip on him, prepared to…what? Pull away? What more did he need? But his hands went around hers, around him, and he gripped them hard, squeezing her hands tightly around his cock. And then his hips moved—fast, hard, and quick—and he shouted and came all over their hands and his belly.
Panting, he dropped back to the pillows. Sid kissed his chest and climbed over him and off the bed. She went into the bathroom and washed her hands, then grabbed a clean hand towel from her linen closet and brought it back for him. He took it with thanks and wiped himself up.
While she sat and watched him stroke his belly with her towel, a touch of awkward uncertainty seeped in on the edges of her good mood. She wanted to ask him a question, but she didn’t want to sound needy or whatever. But that was the dance they’d been avoiding.
So, fine, then. She’d
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