I warm under his praise, feeling myself finally start to slip into my comfort zone.
“You ready to take a break?” He holds out a hand to help me down the stairs. “Damn, Brooklyn, your hands are ice cold. And you’re shaking. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I’m fine.” But as I look up at him and see how concerned he is, how he’s clasping my cold hands between his to warm them up, I realize I feel safe enough to admit my insecurities about the show.
It’s not just nerves, and it’s not just that I haven’t walked a runway in a while.
“What if—what if I really don’t belong here?” I whisper. “After losing that Maxilene job, I just…feel even more like I’m not good enough. Like I can’t actually hope to make this my career. I know you think differently, but I honestly don’t know if I can do this. And don’t just say it’ll be fine, or that it’s nonsense. This feels real to me.”
He nods, gazing at me thoughtfully, and I can tell he’s really considering my words. “If you need a little help feeling comfortable, I might have a solution.” He smiles.
“Please don’t tell me to imagine everyone in the audience naked.”
“I wasn’t going to.” The wickedness in his smile reaches his eyes. “I was actually going to tellyouto get naked. I’ve seen how confidently you strut wearing nothing—if you can remember how to do that, just imagine how well you can strut with clothes on.”
Heat pulses through my body, from my cheeks to my low belly, aching between my legs.
“What exactly do you have in mind?” I ask, even though I already know.
He pushes me back against the raised runway, his fingers finding the back zipper for my skirt. Pushing it down, he growls appreciatively when he realizes I’m not wearing underwear.
“I’m going to suck you off right here,” he says, running his warm hands up my bare ass.
“Mmm.” I’m instantly wet. I tilt my head back and let out a sigh, shivering as the air conditioning chills my bare skin. Then I lift up my arms so he can pull my blouse over my head.
Cupping my breasts through the lace of my bra, he pulls me in for a hard kiss. I nearly melt from the feel of his demanding lips on mine and the hot streak of his tongue as it dances inside my mouth. My nipples perk hard, tingling under his touch, and my pussy starts to throb. I’ve craved his touch for so long, and I want to be completely consumed by him.
Suddenly Luka breaks the kiss and lifts me onto the runway, pulling my hips toward him and my legs over his shoulders. Bracing myself on my forearms, I lean back. His eyes lock on mine, and he licks his lips. He knows what I need. He always knows what I need.
Spreading me apart with his fingers, he dives in, lapping me in long, wet strokes from ass to clit with no-nonsense intention. I gasp at the sensations washing over me in waves. He’s relentless, determined to make me come hard and fast. Exactly what I need to clear my head.
Biting my lip to muffle a cry, I start to ride his face, urging him on with little moans as he feasts on me. We find a rhythm, alternating between me thrusting against the flat of his tongue and him plunging it inside me, his thumb stroking my clit softly all the while.
“Oh God,” I pant, steadying myself as the pleasure twists through me so strong and electric I can barely keep from stabbing my heels into Luka’s back. If my husband has learned anything over the past few months of our marriage, it’s how to get me off with his tongue.
The pressure builds, and builds, and I grind my soaking wet pussy against his mouth, more and more demanding. I could come right now, easy as anything. But not yet. I want more.
“I want you,” I tell him. “I want your cock in my mouth, I want to taste you. Come here.”
I don’t have to tell him twice. He lifts my legs back onto the runway and then climbs up beside me. I reach for his zipper, but he’s already got it down. His cock springs free, thick and hard. The tip glistens as I take him in my hand, my mouth already watering. Moving onto his side, Luka grabs my hips and pulls my pussy back toward his mouth, his tongue resuming its work just as I take the head of his cock in my mouth. His taste explodes on my palate, so familiar and addicting that I can’t believe I’ve gone this long without it.
Sucking him in deeper, I feel the tip of his cock jut against the back of my throat as he thrusts. Groaning, he licks and sucks me faster, working me with his tongue until I can’t take it.
“I’m going to come,” I tell him breathlessly, before taking him into my mouth again.
His cock swells as I bob my head back and forth, sucking on the fat head and rolling my tongue around it, moaning louder as I feel myself start to crest the wave. He pulls back from me just enough to emit the sexiest groan I’ve ever heard, and then he’s tongue-fucking me again, harder, faster, hotter. Finally letting go, I come in a rush, the orgasm crashing through me. I gasp around his cock, sucking him as hard as I can until he explodes down the back of my throat. I swallow his hot release, savoring every drop as the wave of my own climax slowly recedes.
I’m panting as we roll away from each other, goosebumps breaking out all over me as the cool air hits my damp skin. Luka climbs over me, pressing his lips to mine over and over until we’re both smiling.
“How are those nerves doing?” he asks, finally standing and getting dressed.
I smile. “What nerves? It’s my legs I have to worry about now. I can barely stand.”
He laughs and jumps back to the floor beneath the runway, picking up my clothes and passing them up to me. I dress as my body hums softly with the afterglow of pleasure.
“Just imagine us together when you’re walking tonight,” he says. “Any time you get nervous, remember me making you come. You’ll forget everything else. I promise.”
I huff playfully. I should tell him how conceited that statement is. But he’s not wrong, and he knows it. I won’t be able to set foot onto this walkway tonight without my brain immediately flooding with the memory of what we just did. How good it felt. How goodIfelt.