By the time she had worked him back to full hardness with nothing more than her mouth, tongue, and clever fingers, Samuel's usual control was fraying badly. Sweat shone on his skin. His golden eyes had gone dark and unfocused. Every time he tried to sit up or reach for her she simply pushed him back down with one hand on his chest and continued.
She made him come a second time with her mouth alone, taking him deep and swallowing around him until his thighs shook and another thick pulse flooded her throat.
A third time she used only her hands—long, twisting strokes while her tongue traced every vein and the sensitive head until he was spilling across his own stomach in hard, helpless spurts.
She never once took him inside her again.
