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After two additional requests for a tougher squeeze and his subsequent compliance, I nod and groan, sliding a hand down his back, gripping his ass and pressing our cocks together so hard we’ll chafe if one of us doesn’t come soon. He nearly chokes my breath from me, and my kiss goes from goal-directed to wet, mouthy, and chaotic.
“Such a pretty boy,” he murmurs through the cotton in my ears, and my balls set to detonate. “Tell me when you’re right there—tell me exactly when you can’t hold it in a second longer.”
I lick my lips, and he gnaws on my chin. His ass flexes in my hand, fucking me back, and it’s so depraved and desperate—both of us with need bleeding from our pores.
“Mmm…” he groans. “Shit… Good fucking boy. Dirty, greedy…oh fuck…”
Wet heat slickens the glide of my cock, and vaguely I realize it’s because he just came on my abs. It’s too much—it’s more than enough to push me to the point of no return, and I get that telltale clench. “Drew—” I rasp. “Coming—gonna?—”
The pressure on my throat lets up, one ton at a time, and as blood rushes to my head, and my orgasm spurts up my shaft, my body lights up like a beacon. My release is so intense—so painful almost—it has me seeing stars—or more like fireworks. I come and come, and I keep coming, my body contracting, convulsing, and I keep shouting, “God, oh God, oh God…”
It’s a whole thing while he kisses the places on my neck where he was pressing the hardest, and I’m still unloading cum between us in sporadic bursts. Making a huge mess. His mouth hovers near my ear. “I did my research.”
A strong, final shudder wracks me, and then my entire body goes limp in his strong arms. My face is buried in his neck, and I breathe the faint scent of what’s left of his cologne, but mostly it’s the warm scent of his skin. Like salt and snow. The city and the sea.
Fuck, I’ve got it bad for him. I hope like hell the feeling’s mutual. If he tries to ghost me after this, I’ll raise holy hell. I wouldn’t put it past me to try and get him fired.
“Shower?” he asks after a few minutes.
“No, I couldn’t possibly. Just bring a damp towel.”
“Yes, sir.” He says it so unironically, I smile.
25
DREW
Idon’t know about Olivier, but I sleep like a rock. From about one in the morning until midday. When I crack my eyes open, he’s lying on his back, scrolling through his phone, half a foot away from me.
My cock is hard already. Still. Again. Whatever.
I don’t know if it’s the forbidden fruit thing, or what, but I definitely want to squeeze all the juice out of him.
In profile, he has this straight, perfect nose that’s the exact right size for his face. I have a good nose, but he’s got a great nose. And the way his lips have a natural edge to them makes me fairly certain they won’t lose volume as he ages like mine have. Not so much my lower lip, but my upper lip. It hasn’t disappeared or anything, but it’s less of a pucker, more of a pout these days. Olivier’s lashes are long and dark, brushing the top of his high cheekbones when he blinks. Right now, he’s got his hair shoved back and tucked behind his ears. It’s cute, making him look even younger than he is.
And that’s the guy who fucked me last night.
I twist my mouth as the wide variety of thoughts I have about that fact shuffle through my head. Well, those thoughts along with a type of soreness in my asshole I’ve never felt. As the doubts creep in, I try to head them off by reaching over and pressing a hand to his stomach.
His head turns slowly my way. “Hey,” he says. “So, you’re not working tonight?”
“No,” I tell him, his undivided attention its own kind of reassurance. “Tomorrow night.”
“Hmm…plans?”
“No.” I let another pang of guilt about Jericho come and go. I’ll talk to her. I will. Let her go find someone better for her, who can appreciate her in a way I don’t seem to be able to anymore.
“How’s your butthole?”
I snort. “Sore.”
His gaze goes slightly shy. “I was the opposite of cool last night. That was like—the animal version of me. I really can do better. I wasn’t thinking with the head on my shoulders if you know what I mean.”
“Right.” I rub my thumb back and forth over the smooth skin of his breastbone wishing it were my lips there instead.
He flops over to face me, phone carelessly discarded. “Explain to me why people have to work again.”
“Have you heard of the word rent?”
