Page 70 of Savage Protector
Her lips wrap around my cock. Her teeth scrape the crown as she takes me deeper. Her slender, slick fingers cup my balls and squeeze lightly, and she bobs her head forward. Fuck me, the suction is mind-blowing.
“Have you been practicing this?” I growl. My fingers are in her hair, grasping the wet strands to hold her head still for a moment, just long enough for me to collect myself and exercise some attempt at self-control.
I succeed, after a fashion, but she’s already found her rhythm and is using her talented mouth in ways I could only dream of. I’ve had some decent blow jobs in my time, but this beats all. She works my cock, most of the length, into the inside of her cheek and caresses me with her tongue before withdrawing a little so she can get the tip of her tongue around the underside of my crown. She licks and tastes and plays, and all I can do is lean back against the tiles and groan.
Fuck, fuck,fuck! I can’t hold out for long. My balls are close to boiling, and I swear any moment my knees will give up the ghost. My fingers curl into fists in her hair. Thus far, I’ve let her set the pace, but I’m fast getting beyond that. I tighten my grip and start to thrust.
“Sorry, babe,” I murmur, but her fingers digging into my buttocks urge me on. With one final, vicious thrust from me and a powerful suck from her, I spill my load into her gorgeous mouth.
I take a moment to get my breath back, then withdraw and bend to kiss her. My cum is dribbling from her lips. Her tongue slips out to lick it away.
Holy, holy fuck!I drop to my haunches and kiss her again, properly this time. The warm water cascades over our shoulders, and I decide I might, very probably, love this woman.
I makeit to the games lounge just a couple of minutes late, in time to disturb Ethan lining up a black to the middle pocket. His gaze flicks to me as I try to sidle in unnoticed, then back to the matter in hand. The ball drops into the pocket with a resounding clunk, and he follows it with two more reds, a yellow, and a pink before carelessly snookering himself behind the green.
“Fuck,” he mutters and stands back from the table to survey the damage.
Left with not much in the way of options, he delivers a foul, leaving Tony an easy shot on a red. More muttered expletives follow when Tony whips round the table demolishing our noble leader’s advantage and winning the game by seventy-three points to seventy-one.
Ethan strolls over to me while Tony pours himself a celebratory diet cola. “I suppose I could blame you. You distracted me.”
“Sorry boss.”
“You were late.”
“I know. I was?—”
“I can guess what you were doing, and it’s just too much information, thanks. Forget that. I need a word.”
“With me?” I’m genuinely surprised. Ethan Savage is always friendly enough, but I don’t consider myself one of his inner sanctum quite yet. “Is something wrong?”
I follow him to the bar where we help ourselves to a hit of caffeine. I rarely drink alcohol anyway, and the rest of us don’t tend to during the day when there’s work to be done. During the night, too, for that matter.
We join Tony on a leather L-shaped sofa. Ethan comes straight to the point.
“Do you remember Bilal Malik?”
I blink. That name is a blast from the past, but I’ve never forgotten the feisty little lad unfortunate enough to be the offspring of my previous employer, Abid Malik, child sex trafficker of this parish. Last I heard, Abid was about halfway through a twenty-year stretch. For one awful moment I imagine he might somehow have conned the authorities into letting him out.
“Abid isn’t?—?”
Ethan shakes his head. “Still tucked up nice and cosy in Barlinnie. I checked. Apparently, he’s not been a model prisoner, exactly, so no early release for him.”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought. So, Bilal…?”
“He phoned me. Yesterday.”
I blink again. “He phoned you. But…how?—”
“I gave him my number, that day we…visited. I liked the boy.”
“Well, yes. So did I. He’s a good lad, or he was. How old will he be now? Fourteen, fifteen?”
“Seventeen.”
“Fuck. Where did the time go? Is he okay?”
“No, I don’t think he is, or he wouldn’t be in touch with me. Listen to this.”
