Page 124 of Pucking the Team

He parted his legs a little, and a drip of salty pre-cum coated my tongue, mixing with the shower water.

“Pippa…” he gasped.

I was still playing with his balls and I sank deep, so deep he touched the back of my throat. I extended my index finger and gently stroked the patch of skin between his balls and his asshole.

“Putain, putain…fuck…” He dragged on my hair and canted his hips forward.

So he liked that. Good.

I pressed the smooth skin I’d found and bobbed up and down on his cock with my lips tight.

“Ahhh…oui…” He came, great pulses of release that flooded my mouth.

I swallowed some and let some escape and be washed away.

He was fucking my mouth, coming long and hard.

Still I kept up the pressure behind his balls; it had him groaning and gasping.

“Oh Jesus, yes…” he said. He released my hair and cupped my face.

I looked up, his cock still moving in and out of my mouth.

He was staring down at me, his wide eyes glistening.

Taking his balls in my palm, I let him slide from my mouth and caught his spent cock in my other hand.

“That was…” he said breathlessly. “Fuck, you are a wild thing. Who would have thought you’d…”

“Hit all of your hot spots?” I raised my eyebrows.

He gave me a satisfied smile. “Oui, hit all of my hot spots. You are truly something else.”

He lifted me to standing and embraced me, my breasts squashing against his chest and the water now landing on my shoulders and running down my back.

Contentment spread through me. I was tired yet fulfilled and I felt safe, so safe in his arms.

“I love you,” he said, his gaze steady on mine.

“Because I gave you a great blow job?”

He chuckled. “Not just because of that. You are so special, so strong yet soft, perfect but damaged, and I wouldn’t have you any other way.”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

A tray of tea along with a box of lettuces was delivered to the room the next morning, and I spent a happy hour on the balcony feeding the giraffe as I sipped Earl Grey.

“We should order breakfast,” Eduardo said, putting on his t-shirt and tucking it into black jeans.

“Isn’t there a buffet?”

“Oui, there is.” He frowned at me. “You want to go?”

“Honestly, I can’t resist a good breakfast buffet, it’s one of my versions of heaven.”

He laughed. “Of course it is.”

“And if you pull on a cap and I put on some shades, hopefully we’ll be incognito. It’s not like I’m made up or anything.”