Under His Watch by Emily Tilton Page B

aroused Ryan. To tell her to look at his uncovered manhood, to tell her to kiss his balls, to tell her to take him deeper and enforce the depth with—gentle, today—pressure on the back of her head; all those things seemed to send him into a realm of passion he had never visited.
    Her inexperience delighted him, too, though he felt a little guilty when she gagged, as she did from time to time, on his cock. But he loved to say, without letting her take her mouth from his hardness, “That’s okay, honey. You’re learning. You’re a good girl,” and he loved to see in her eyes how it turned her on to hear him speak that way, a protector having fun with his dirty little girl.
    Ryan taught his dirty little socialite to rub gently and to lick. He taught her to keep her eyes respectfully downcast as she worshipped with her mouth and hands.
    And he taught her that she would swallow his seed when the time came. “Get ready, honey,” he said. “I’m going to come in your mouth now. Get ready to swallow what a dirty girl gets as her reward.”
    He had held off his orgasm for long minutes, not wanting to give up the delicious sights and sounds and feelings of Charity sucking his cock. Now he rested one hand lightly on her head, while the other caressed her shoulder, and he grunted deep in his chest as his cock spasmed in his girl’s mouth. He breathed very hard for a few seconds, while Charity suckled deliciously on him as if she wanted more of his essence, and then he raised her up to see the dazed look in her eyes and gather her into his lap so that he could thank her with words and hands.
    “Did you like that, honey?” he asked.
    “Yes?” she said. “It tasted funny.” She giggled. “I’ve never done that before—swallowed, I mean. No guy ever… deserved it.”
    Ryan laughed. “And I deserve it?”
    “Oh, yes, sir.”
     
    * * *
     
    After they had showered, they went for a walk in a very hot Central Park.
    “See?” Charity said, as they walked hand in hand by the boat pond. “You can be a conventional boyfriend.” She was wearing a blue sundress that made him very conscious that he couldn’t look at Charity as much as he wanted and do his job at the same time. Really, he shouldn’t even be holding hands with her, he supposed, but he had been careful to put her on his left side, so he could draw his gun from inside his light jacket if he had to.
    “I can do a reasonable imitation, maybe,” he replied. “That doesn’t mean you aren’t going to get your bottom smacked if you spend all your time on your phone, though.”
    Charity frowned.
    Ryan continued, “You need to be okay with that, Charity. I can tell that you’re having trouble figuring out how to deal with what’s just happened between us, and what’s going to happen. That doesn’t worry me. What would worry me is if you felt you were getting mixed signals from me about how our relationship works.”
    “But…” They took ten steps or so along the pond in silence. “But, when—” Ryan noticed, glancing at her, that pink spots had come into her cheeks. She gave a little snort of frustration, as if she couldn’t figure out how to express a thought that pressed itself upon her very urgently. “Okay, yes, when you talk about earning that… privilege. I mean, it’s so fucking hot, yes. And, yes, I want it and I even want… the privilege.”
    Ryan laughed, and she turned and glared at him. “Sorry, honey,” he said defensively. “You’re just so adorable. To hear you talk about anal, and watch you blush when you think about it… You just make me happy, is all. Just right now.”
    Her glare turned into a little smile, but then she turned her eyes back to the pond and continued down the path of her reasoning. “But do I get that privilege if I pick up my room? If I learn to make soufflé? If I go to bed early? Or can I only earn it by—” She lowered her voice and leaned into his shoulder to murmur, “sucking your cock well