Chapter 18 Fucking hard🍆

Chapter 18 Fucking hard🍆
Daniel’s POV

The door to my bedroom closes with a soft click that feels louder than it should. The hallway light cuts off when it shuts, leaving me in near-dark except for the faint city glow bleeding through the blackout curtains I never bother to close all the way. I stood there for a second. My back against the wood, head tipped back, eyes closed–trying to catch my breath like I’ve just run ten blocks instead of walking twenty feet from her guest room.
My mouth still tastes like her.
Sweet. Salty. Warm. Fucking addictive.
I drag the back of my hand across my lips, slow, like I’m trying to wipe it away and keep it there at the same time. It doesn’t work. The taste is still under my tongue, in the back of my throat, in the part of my brain that’s supposed to be rational and is currently offline. I just ate her out on the edge of that bed like a starving man.
She came on my tongue.
Hard.
Loud.
Beautiful.

I can still feel the exact moment it happened. The way her thighs clamped around my ears, the sharp tug on my hair when she grabbed it like she was afraid I’d stop. The broken little cry that punched out of her when she shattered. Her hips bucked so hard I had to grip her ass with both hands just to keep her pussy to my face. And when she finally came and went limp, panting, flushed from her chest to her hairline, I didn’t want to move. I wanted to stay there forever, breathing her in, letting her liquids ripple against my lips.I haven’t felt anything close to this alive in… God, years.
Maybe ever.

My cock is still painfully hard, trapped behind the zipper of my shorts, throbbing in time with my thoughts. I could take care of it in minutes flat–but I don’t want my own hand. I want her. I want her mouth, her hands, her body clenching around me while she says my name like a prayer. I want to bury myself so deep she forgets every other man who ever touched her. But I walked away. I walked away because the second she came down from that high, reality crashed back in.
The phone call from the press. The fresh leak hitting the wires. The board is already circling like sharks. If I’d stayed. I would have climbed onto that bed and fucked her the way every cell in my body is screaming to and I wouldn’t have been able to stop.
And then tomorrow, when the headlines inevitably get uglier, she’d wake up next to a man who’s screwed. A man who might drag her down with him. I’m trying to be the good guy here.
It’s killing me.
I pushed off from the door, crossed the room in three strides, and dropped onto the edge of the mattress. My head falls into my hands.
I can still smell her pussy on my skin–musk and sweetness and the faint vanilla of her lotion. It’s everywhere. On my fingers. My chin. My goddamn soul.