Twist the Knife (Lost Kings MC #24)

Lesson. I’m supposed to be teaching her…something. Feels too fucking good. Hanging onto my control by a thread, I inhale and exhale a few rapid breaths while trying to rub my brain cells together.

“Every man will be different,” I say, hating the thought of her ever touching anyone else. “Experiment. See what he likes. Don’t be afraid to ask.”

Worry creases her brow. “What do you like?”

Everything and anything as long as you’re the one doing it to me.

“You can use more pressure.” My mind blanks as she immediately squeezes harder, adding a twist of her wrist at the base. “Fuuuck, that’s really good.” I flex into her hands.

Her teeth sink into her lower lip, and she mimics the same movement over and over.

“That’s good, baby. You’re doing so good.” My words come out choppy, but a smile spreads across her face.

My skin prickles as she pumps harder. Christ, I want my cock pushing between her lips and her wet little tongue teasing the tip. Her tight little cunt wrapped around me is going to feel amazing. I’m dizzy with thoughts of all the lessons I plan to teach her.

Or maybe it’s all the blood rushing to my groin. “I’m close,” I warn her.

I expect her to stop, maybe run into the kitchen to grab a towel so I can finish myself off, but she only releases me long enough to whip her shirt over her head and drape it over the cushion.

She wants me to nut in her shirt? “Uh?—”

“I don’t care,” she whispers breathlessly, wrapping her hands around me again. “I want to make you come. Please?”

Not going to argue with that.

She licks her hand again, then resumes pumping like she never stopped. My eyes squeeze shut as she returns to the perfect pressure and pace. Stroking in rhythm to my heartbeat. How the fuck could anyone tell her she’s bad at this?

My toes curl. Tingles race along my spine.

“Coming,” I warn.

“Yes,” she whispers.

“Fuuuck.” My legs go numb as I release. I reach down and grab the shirt, spilling into it. She slows her pumping and loosens her grip but keeps her hands on me.

“Good girl,” I breathe out.

I groan through the orgasm, my whole body shaking.

Then it’s too much. My body jerks as she grazes the tip of my cock. I let out a wild shout of laughter that pushes me out of her grasp.

“Sensitive after,” I say to stop the worry spreading across her face. “That was…so good.” I actually don’t remember the last time a simple hand job felt so fucking amazing.

Is it the way she’s so fucking eager to please me? Or did I just let go and enjoy it because there’s no greedy rush to the next event? It’s obvious we’re not going any farther tonight.

My tongue almost falls out of my mouth when I lower my gaze to her chest.

All she was wearing under that shirt was a completely sheer, pale pink bra that barely contains her ample breasts. Stiff, rosy nipples stab against the flimsy material, threatening to slice right through.

My mouth waters, eager to suck on the pink buds. She notices my stare and quickly jumps up, grabbing the cum-soaked shirt and hurrying out of the room.

Jesus Christ, at this rate, I’ll have a PhD in patience when our lessons are finished.

The rush of running water comes from somewhere deeper in the apartment, then the bang of metal on metal. I tuck myself away and drag my body out of the chair. No sign of Margot yet. I walk over to the counter and finish my bottle of water.

“Did I do okay?” Margot returns wearing a rainbow-striped T-shirt.

I can’t stop picturing what’s underneath.