Pretty Mouth
Oliver let out a low breath and shifted onto his back beside her. The blanket slipped down to his hips. His cock was already hard, straining against the front of his boxer shorts. He hooked his thumbs into the waistband and pushed them down, kicking them off. Then he settled back against the pillows, one arm behind his head, watching Del with that easy, playful smile.
“Whenever you’re ready,” he said.
Del sat up slowly, the sheet pooling around her waist. She looked at him—really looked. The lean lines of his body, the way his chest rose and fell a little faster now, the dark trail of hair leading down.
She reached out, wrapping her arms around the base of him. He was hot in her hand, thick, the skin smooth over hardness.
Oliver’s breath hitched. “Fuck. Your hand already feels good, baby.”
She stroked once, testing the weight of him. Then again, firmer. He groaned quietly, hips shifting up into her grip.
“Like this?” she asked, voice soft but direct. “You like this?”
“Exactly like that,” he murmured. “A little tighter… yeah. There.”
Del leaned down, hair falling forward to brush his stomach. She kissed the tip first, then opened her mouth and took him in. Just the head at first, tongue flat against the underside.
Oliver’s hand moved to her hair, not pushing, just resting there.
“Dammit, Del,” he breathed. “That’s… perfect. I’m fucking obsessed with your mouth already.”
She moved slowly, taking more of him each time, learning the shape of him with her mouth. Her hand worked the part she couldn’t fit yet, stroking him. Oliver’s breathing grew rougher, fingers flexing in her hair now.
But suddenly, a memory of Wyatt flashed in his mind. The casual way he’d looked at Del across the room, like she was something to be taken. Oliver’s stomach twisted. His hand in her hair clenched suddenly, pulling just enough to make her pause.
Del felt it. She lifted her head, lips wet, eyes searching his face. “Oliver? You okay?”
“Yeah. Just… I’m sorry. Keep going. You’re good, Del. Really good.” He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.
Del was about to take him again, but he sat up suddenly, pulling her with him until she was straddling his thighs, chest to chest, her thighs bracketing his hips. His cock pressed hot against her stomach.
“I want you closer,” he said, voice rougher now. “Want you right here.”
Del tilted her head. “You were just letting me—”
“I know.” He kissed her hard, tasting himself on her tongue. When he pulled back, his eyes were darker. “I just… sometimes I think about someone else looking at you the way I do. And I don’t like it. You’re mine. No one else gets this. No one else gets to see you like this. No one else gets your mouth.”
Del blinked, startled but not pulling away. “I’m not—”
“I know you’re not.” His hands slid up to cup her face, thumbs pressing along her jaw. “But I keep thinking about other guys looking at you. Thinking about you. Wanting what’s mine. It makes me want to mark you up so everyone knows.”
Del could feel the shift in him—the playful warmth was gone. “Someone like Wyatt?”
Oliver exhaled hard through his nose. “I’m sorry. I don’t want him to ruin this moment. I just—”
Del, she reached up, fingers gentle on his wrists, guiding his hands down to her waist instead of her face. “Wyatt’s an asshole. I’m here, naked, in your bed, because I want you. Not him. Not anyone else.”
Oliver’s shoulders dropped. He swallowed. “I know. I know that, Del.”
“And?”
Oliver looked up at her. “I’m not great at this stuff,” he admitted. “Feeling like something could slip away. It makes me act stupid.”
“You’re not going to lose me,” Del said, keeping her voice calm and matter-of-fact. “But when you get all intense and quiet about it instead of just talking, I don’t like it. I don’t like guessing what’s wrong.”
He let out a small laugh, the tightness in his shoulders loosening a little. “Yeah, that’s fair. I’ll try to give you a heads-up next time I’m being an idiot about anything.”
Del leaned in and kissed him, letting it linger until she felt him relax into it. When she pulled back, she gave him a soft smile.
His jaw tightened for a second, then he leaned in and kissed the side of her neck, his mouth warm and open against her skin, teeth grazing lightly as he moved. His hand slid down between them, fingers brushing over her and finding her still slick from earlier. He stroked her slowly, almost absentmindedly, while his other arm stayed wrapped around her waist, holding her close.
“You’re still wet,” he said, voice a little rough. “Sorry about that brief interruption. Now, I’d really like your mouth on me again.”
Her cheeks went pink, but she didn’t look away. “Yeah?” she said simply.
“Yes, please.”
Giggling, she moved down his body, settling comfortably between his legs. This time, when she took him in, Oliver’s hand just rested lightly in her hair—no pressure, no guiding. He watched her, breathing deeper, letting her go at whatever pace.
When she hollowed her cheeks and slid lower, taking more of him, a quiet groan escaped him. “Oh, Del… that mouth of yours…You’re mine,” he murmured, almost like he was reminding himself. “All mine.”
She hummed softly around him, making his breath catch. And she answered by taking him even deeper. Oliver’s hips twitched once before he steadied them, fingers flexing gently in her hair as he let her keep control.
“Del—fuck,” he rasped, voice cracking. “I’m so close. Your mouth feels too good.”
She didn’t pull off, just kept the slow, steady rhythm, hollowing her cheeks on the upstroke. Oliver’s hand tightened in her hair—not pulling, but just holding on. His breathing turned ragged, thighs trembling under her palms.
“I’m close. So close. Is it okay if I come in your mouth, Del?”
But Del didn’t respond. She just kept at it, her head bobbing betweem Oliver’s legs.
Please, Del, let me come,” Oliver begged. “Let me come in your mouth. I need it—need to feel you swallow me. Fuck, I love it when you take every drop. Please, baby, let me fill your mouth.”
Her eyes flicked up to meet his. She gave a small nod without breaking rhythm, humming again around his length.
Oliver’s hips bucked once, hard, and he came with a broken groan, spilling hot and thick across her tongue. His whole body tensed, fingers flexing in her hair as pulse after pulse emptied into her mouth. He watched her through half-lidded eyes, chest heaving, completely undone.
“Damn… Del,” he panted when it finally slowed. “You’re incredible. I fucking love that pretty mouth of yours.”
Del eased off slowly, swallowing once, then licked her lips. A faint flush colored her cheeks.
“Come here.” Oliver pulled her up immediately, kissing her hard—tasting himself on her tongue—before tucking her against his chest.