Chapter 5: Birthday Gift ll

The silence that followed the snap of his belt felt loud enough to crack the plaster on the walls. With a slow, deliberate agony that made my own skin prickle with sweat, my shaking hands went straight to the waistband of his trousers. I popped the metal button open with a sharp, metallic sound, dragging the heavy zipper down. 

My breath hitched violently, a low, desperate moan catching in my throat at the sight and the heavy, radiating heat that immediately met my eyes. He was already hard—thick, pulsing, and weeping clear, slippery pre-cum down the sensitive shaft, making my mouth water instantly and soaking the fabric of my panties even further against my thighs.

Without giving myself a second to hesitate or overthink the sheer madness of what I was doing, I sank slowly down to my knees on the hardwood bedroom floor, letting out a soft, ragged sigh as I parted my lips and took him in.

The sudden, sharp intake of breath above me was all the warning I got before his broad hands came down, heavy and sure, tangling deep into my hair.

"Mia," he groaned, the sound tearing out of his chest as a rough, gravelly rasp that barely resembled his usual composed voice. The dark amusement was entirely gone, replaced by a sudden, electric tension that rippled through his entire muscular frame.

I didn't care. When I opened my mouth and took him in, my breath hitched at just how massive he truly was, stretching me wide and filling my mouth completely. Panic flickered for a microsecond—he was so much bigger than I had ever imagined, a towering wall of masculinity that felt impossible to conquer—but my mind instantly flashed to the late-night adult films I had secretly watched on my laptop, studying every angle, every rhythmic slide, and every trick of the tongue. I channeled all of that forbidden knowledge, letting instinct and memory take over to guide my lips.

My tongue traced the velvety, throbbing length of him, lapping up the wet sheen of pre-cum, reveling in the way his hips jerked involuntarily forward at the sudden, slick friction.

With the blindfold blocking his vision, he was entirely at the mercy of his other senses. He couldn't see my flushed cheeks, couldn't watch the frantic desperation in my eyes—he could only feel every shuddering breath, every wet, slurping stroke of my lips, and the heavy, dripping heat surrounding him. Every time I drew back and pushed forward again, the ambient sound of our breathing filled the room, punctuated by the soft, obscene wetness of skin against skin.

"Fucking hell," he muttered beneath his breath, his knuckles whitening as his fingers tightened in my hair, holding me securely in place while his hips hitched upward in an urgent, instinctive rhythm. "You really couldn't wait, could you, little cousin?"

The illicit thrill of the word—cousin—whispered like a dirty promise in the charged air sent a violent, dripping wave of pleasure straight to my core. It was forbidden, dangerous, and utterly corrupt, exactly as we stood on opposite sides of a line we were never supposed to cross.

I quickened my pace, applying the techniques I had memorized from the screen, letting out a wet, appreciative hum against him as his grip tightened, guiding my movements with a firm, dominant authority that made my head spin. The mounting friction, the heavy smell of our shared sweat, and the slick slide of my saliva made every slide impossibly loud and intimate. The heat pushed him closer to the edge. With a low, ragged growl that vibrated straight through my chest, Alex's hands tightened viciously in my hair, anchoring me in place as his hips surged forward with a sudden, punishing force.

"Mia—fuck," he hissed, the aristocratic composure he wore like armor shattering completely under the wave of intense, unadulterated pleasure.

He came with a rough, shuddering groan, his entire muscular frame locking up as his release hit him hard and fast, flooding my mouth with his hot, thick seed. I didn't pull away; I swallowed every drop, my throat working greedily to take it all in, letting nothing go to waste. I kept my lips moving over him, meticulously licking and cleaning every single drop of sticky release and slick pre-cum, ensuring every trace of him was tasted and claimed.

Slowly, the violent tremors of his climax subsided, leaving behind only the ragged sound of our heavy breathing filling the silent bedroom.

The silk blindfold dropped from his eyes, revealing a predator’s gaze. Still on my knees, my lips swollen and dripping with his taste, I looked up.

"Happy birthday to me," I breathed.

His hand, rough and warm, cupped my jaw, tilting my head back. A slow, dangerous smile spread across his face.

"That wasn’t a gift, Mia," he rumbled, his thumb tracing my wet bottom lip. "That was a surprise.”