“I’m loving seeing you on your knees, although it should be me on my knees begging you to love me forever, telling you my heart is finally healing. Good Lord, you have no idea how hard you make me. How badly I crave you deep within my bones.”

“I feel the same way. All these years, I never wanted to acknowledge to myself that I have always felt you here,” she admits, placing her hand over her heart. “But right now, I need to feel you here.”

She squeezes my dick. I grit my teeth.

Her small, delicate fingers pull my briefs down and my cock springs free. Her eyes go wide as she does a double take, looking up at me then back at my dick. Son of a bitch. I’ve been so enthralled in what she is doing to me that I completely forgot about my tattoo. She gasps loudly, her hands flying up to her mouth.

“Oh, my God. You crazy man!”

All kinds of questions flicker through her eyes. Some I’m willing to answer, and some I’m not.

She hesitantly reaches out and runs her index finger down the stem of the white lily.

“Did it hurt?”

“It hurt. Not as much as losing you did,” I tell her, speaking the God’s honest truth.

Her eyes turn sad.

“When did you do it?” she whispers, her smooth finger continuing to glide up and down my dick.

I’ve waited six years to show her this. Tell her why I marked myself. And now I can’t seem to get the words to escape past my throat.

“Cain. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

Her head bows, her hair once again falling all around her. I can’t see her face, but I can feel, though. And when her tongue takes a swipe across the tip of my dick, all I can do is to lay my head back and relish in the fact that she is here. It’s her. Her mouth making love to my cock. Her long, dark hair spread across my stomach, draping down my legs.

I’m finally believing I have my life back.

Chapter Sixteen

Calla

I’m astonished, nearly rendered speechless when I get a good look at Cain’s glorious cock. I’ve never seen anything like that tattoo in my life. A single, perfectly drawn out white Calla lily runs up the front of it. I want to explore it. Lick it. Suck it. Hell, devour it.

I’m no slut; I have had only two lovers since our breakup, but I haven’t given a blow job since the last time I gave one to Cain. What inexperienced teenagers we were. I was so surprised when he told me one night while we lay in the dark on the bed that he has never let anyone else give him a blow job, kissed another woman, or even gone down on one. I told him not to say shit to try and make me feel better; I didn’t expect him to keep his dick in check while we were apart. He said he always knew we would get back together, or at least, he was bound to try.

So now I sit here on my knees in front of the man who I love with everything I have. I start at the tip, placing small kisses around his opening, swirling my tongue up and down the front and licking the now enlarged head. My hair veils my view of his face, so I can’t see if he’s enjoying what I’m doing. He sighs, his thigh relaxing under my touch. His hands firmly set into my hair, giving me the confidence to carry out this sexual act. God, I’m confident in almost everything I do, but right now, I am fucking nervous.

Please, babe, love this. Let this be the best damn blow job of your life.

I’m on an exploration of this beautiful dick. Good God, it’s like one of those hot, sunny days where you want your Popsicle to last forever. I’ve never wanted to please him more than I do now. I don’t care how wet I am, or how much I want to feel him inside of me; this is all about him. His pleasure. His relief. Him. Just him.

I barely take in the tip. I could never take him in all the way before; there’s no way I can now. He’s so much bigger. So thick and so hard. I wrap my hand around the base and inhale his scent. Relaxing the muscles in my jaw, I work my way down, taking in more and more, my movements syncing with the up and down gliding of my hand. My tongue swirls around, tasting his erotic flavor.

“Fuck, baby. So damn good. I want to see you,” he grits out, grabbing two handfuls of my hair.

He’s panting; his eyes are so dark, the darkest I have ever seen them, but there’s a spark beneath those hooded lids. I squeeze his balls with my other hand. Rolling them, gently caressing.

“I… Hell!” Cain yells out, his head flopping back against his chair.

I know he’s close just by the way he’s twitching in my mouth. His moans become mine. My desire to taste him takes over. Small whimpers of craving escape from my throat. I suck harder, lick more. His balls tighten in my hand.

And then I taste him. His cum. His sexiness. It tastes like him. I swallow it all, licking my way up to the tip and dipping my tongue into the small hole. My hand releases his balls while the other stays firm around the base of his shaft. His eyes open, gazing down into mine. A smug smile tugs on his lips.

“Fucking hell. Am I in heaven? I must be. That mouth of yours is heaven. I’m so ready to go again.”

My brows shoot up.

“Really?”

Cain releases his grip on my hair, smoothing it out, then he stands up and tugs his briefs and jeans on, leaving them hanging open. Before I know what’s happening, he lifts me up under my arms and throws me over his shoulder. I squeal, this time happy to have a prime view of his tight, sexy ass. I know now I can grab it and squeeze it. Do any damn thing I want to do to it. It’s mine!

He’s on a mission. In four long strides, we are at the end of the bar and I’m flipped over onto my back with my legs dangling over the edge and my hands pinned over the top of my head. The most excruciating agony develops between my legs. I could scream.

“Spread those legs, baby,” his throaty voice growls.

I don’t even think about it. I scoot my body up, the cool, glossy surface of the bar grazing my overheated skin. I spread for him, planting my feet onto the wooden surface. He takes a few moments to enjoy the view, running his hands up my legs until he hits my thighs. He presses them gently to open me wider.

“What are you doing?” I ask when he goes around the bar.

He reaches underneath, then lifts up a bottle of tequila along with two shot glasses.

“Grabbing this, and these.”

“Tequila?”

“They say it makes your clothes come off.”

I scoff.

“You don’t need that to make my clothes come off.”

“Oh, but I do,” he insists, twisting off the cap and filling the two glasses. “You see, my love, we’re about to have our own little party. Take your top off, but leave that lacy red bra on.”

He lifts one of the glasses to his mouth and drains it, his eyes never leaving my face as I sit up and pull my top over my head, tossing it behind me.

“Shit. You have the nicest tits. They’re beckoning me to lick them.”

He guides me back by placing his hand on the back of my head until I’m laying down again. My chest heaves, the ache between my legs growing more intense by the second.

“Do you like tequila?” he asks, raising the second shot glass. I watch him, mesmerized, as he places the shot glass right above the swell of my breasts.

“I love tequila,” I say breathlessly.

“Me too. Now don’t move. No matter what I do, stay still. Understand?”

I nod my head and watch him intensely when he dips down, opens his mouth, and takes a nipple into his mouth through my bra. I gasp when he bites down on it. The shot glass wobbles slightly.

“Don’t spill it,” he warns, unclasping the front of my bra with his long fingers. Pulling the cups to the side, he exposes my breasts. He stares in awe, licking his lips, then cupping one of them in his hand, palming it and rolling his finger across my peaked flesh.

“You’re killing me here, Cain.”

“No. You’re killing me. You have no idea how badly I want you. How much I love you and want to worship every part of this body.”