Swallow Me Whole novel · Chapter 4 of 24

Chapter 4: Lesson Three

"On your knees," Ashton said, "and tell me what you see."

He sat in a kitchen chair with his boots planted wide and his hands on the arms.

He had folded a dish towel on the floor between his feet.

I knelt on it, in my bike shorts and my big gray T-shirt, and looked at the front of his jeans.

The shape under the denim made my mouth go dry.

"A zipper," I said.

"Funny."

"A very big zipper."

"Better."

He reached down and undid his belt.

The clink of the buckle went straight into my stomach.

He popped the button and drew the zipper down.

He lifted his hips and pushed his jeans and his black briefs to his thighs.

His cock sprang free and stood up thick and heavy against his stomach.

I had seen exactly one in my life, and it had not looked like this.

It was long and flushed dark at the head, with a vein running up the underside.

A bead of clear fluid already shone at the tip.

It twitched when I looked at it.

"Oh," I said.

"Yeah."

"That is going to fit in my mouth?"

"Some of it, to start. Nobody expects you to take all of it the first time."

"I will."

"Sadie."

"I'm going to take all of it," I said. "Eventually."

His cock jerked again, and he let out a short, rough laugh.

"Okay. Eventually. Start with your hand."

I put my hand around him.

My fingers did not meet.

He was hot, and hard, and the skin was softer than I had expected.

He sucked in a breath through his teeth.

"Not so tight. There. Move slowly. Up, and twist a little at the top."

I did what he said.

Up, and a twist, and down.

His thighs tensed under my other hand.

"What's this?" I said, and cupped the heavy weight below with my free palm.

"Fuck. Careful. Gentle."

"Like this?"

"Like that. Roll them. Yes."

I explored him.

I felt every hitch in his breathing, and I learned that the harder I tried to be gentle, the louder he swore.

I loved it.

I had never had a man's whole body hang on my hand.

"Good. Now look at my face and tell me what you see."

I looked up.

His head was tipped back against the chair and his lips were parted, and the pulse in his throat was going hard.

"You like it."

"I like it."

"What do you like?"

"Everything. Your hand. Your hand on me."

"Try your thumb on the head," he said.

I swept it across the wet tip and spread the slickness down.

He groaned and his hips pushed up off the chair.

"Jesus. Yes."

"Okay," I said, and I felt a rush of something pure and powerful go through me. "Okay. Now what?"

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