That’s all I say before going back in for more, moving my hands to his hips and stopping him from thrusting too hard into my mouth. Because the last thing I need right now is to gag—that’d wake the whole damn block up, which can’t happen.
Not before I drain his balls.
Jaw pain aside, I’ve gotten pretty good at getting Dean off. I know exactly where he’s sensitive, that he likes things really freaking wet, and that he goes feral for a couple of well-timed rubs across his heavy nut sack.
I like knowing what to do.
“Wanna see you,” he whispers.
Likewise.I offer a gentlemm-hmm, not stopping my slow, sloppy onslaught, and he shuffles an arm to his nightstand, flicking the lamp on.
Hot damn, I’m never gonna get over the sight of Dean staring down at me with those soft, pleading eyes. I flick my tongue under his shaft. He’s panting, holding himself back from making any more noise, and his hips rock along in time with his ragged breaths. And when I think he can’t get any hotter, he chomps down on his pillow to silence himself. Well, a corner of it, but it’s still sosexy.
I can’t—fuck. I can’t wait any longer. Bringing my hand into the mix, I grip the base of his dick hard and jack him into my open mouth, relishing in how he throbs in my fist and tries to fuck it.
“Give it to me,” I whisper. “I want—”you.
Oh, god.
Oh my fucking god.
“—your nut,” I finish, and I stick him into my blabbering mouth before I can slip up for real.
When he starts leaking more precum seconds later, I fondle his balls, tightening my throat and going in for the kill.
He makes some kind of whimpery garbled noise, gritting his teeth and biting his clenched fist. He throws his head back into the pillow before he shoots, bucking up and wrestling a strangled moan down to keep it from spilling out of his mouth. My own cock digs into the mattress—I’m leaking into my shorts, but if I have things my way, I’m gonna be leaking somewhere else pretty soon.
His body stills, save for a few lingering shudders here and there. Mission fucking accomplished.
“You should work as, like, a spy or something,” Dean mumbles when I flop down next to him. “Your persuasion skills? Top notch.”
Ishrug and plant a kiss on his heaving chest. “Eh. It's easier when the subject is a pliant horndog.”
“You're such a hypocrite.” He smacks my chest. “Don’t tell me you don't want this as badly as I do.”
“I won't, because it isn't true.”
I get a mouthful of tongue as a reply, and with my eyes closed, I feel a warm hand coil around my shaft, gripping hard and stroking slowly.
“Fuck,” I moan, and it’s muffled by Dean’s lazy kissing—the contrast between that and the sheer intensity of his handjob makes my head spin. “You’re gonna make me?—”
He presses harder into my mouth, licking the roof and making my spine tingle, so I shut right up. His skilled, sneaky hand doesn’t let up, and when the first signs of an orgasm prick my balls, Dean jacks me faster like the damn pro he is. I’m already on the edge, and I don’t even care. This guy has given me a newfound appreciation of fast, effective, and delightfully devastating quickies.
With my mouth occupied, all I can do is sigh through my nose as I blast my two-day load into Dean’s hand, making him chuckle when he observes the damage, which is at risk of leaking off of my stomach and onto the sheets. He hesitates for a second, looking around, before yanking a tissue from a packet on the floor and swiping the wetness up.
“This is why I never brought guys into this bed,” he mutters. His tone is low, but his eyes are crinkled at the corner, and his mood is infectious.
I smile back, and as soon as he’s finished wiping us clean, I curl an arm around his wide back and pull him in for a kiss.
This one’s way gentler—I tell myself it’s because we don’t want to make any noise, but I can’t kid myself out of how Iwantto be soft with him. As much as I crave being pinned down by his tongue while it spears into me from above, the gentle press of our lips together gives off a sensation so intense it almost stings.
Jesus, I like Dean way too much, and I don’t know how I’m going to get out of it.
The furthest I’ve been from home, whether home is WMU or goddamn Ohio where I grew up, was some bumfuck middle-of-nowhere town in Eastern Ontario to visit my grandparents. And now I’m what—seven, eight thousand miles across the world, under the guise of friendship and not wanting to be alone. But who am I kidding? There’s nothingcasualor plainfriendlyabout the way Dean’s curling his tall body into my arms andsleeping on my damn chest.My chest that gets achy whenever he does this.
He does this a lot.
Because we fall asleep together a lot, like we’re doing now, and how we’regoingto every single night for the next two weeks.
