Carrie's lips hovered just inches away. She could smell him—big, masculine, intoxicating.
Closing her eyes for a moment, she finally gathered her courage and pressed a shy kiss to the swollen crown.
The contact made her whole body jolt.
His cock was hot, almost burning against her mouth.
She pulled back, her face flushed scarlet, then leaned in again, placing another hesitant kiss, longer this time, letting her lips linger.
Ross groaned low in his chest, the sound vibrating with approval.
"Good girl…"
The praise made Carrie's stomach flutter. Slowly, nervously, she let her tongue slip out.
With the faintest touch, she licked the broad head, tasting a bead of salty fluid that sent her reeling.
It was strange, but not unpleasant—thick, musky, and addictive.
She tried again, giving him a longer lick, this time circling the tip clumsily like she was savoring ice cream.
