Page 43 of Line Change

I kiss the mark I left on his neck and move lower. My lips follow the black lines across his chest. He shivers when I suck one nipple, then makes a rough sound when I bite the other. His hands slide over my shoulders without trying to direct me.

The muscles in his stomach jump under my tongue. I trace the tattoo along his ribs, taking my time where it curves over bone. His skin tastes like sweat now. The scent of him gets stronger as I move down, warm and male and close enough to make my cock twitch even after I came.

Fraser’s thighs open around my shoulders.

His cock lies hard against his stomach. The head is dark and wet, precum shining at the slit. I take it in my hand. It feels familiar there. Heavy, smooth, hot enough to pulse against my palm.

My mouth is another matter.

The need to know has been sitting under everything since Arizona, even when I stopped myself from going to my knees. I want his taste on my tongue and the weight of his cock in my mouth.

I hold him in my hand for another second before moving.

Fraser’s fingers brush the side of my head. “You can use your hands.”

The offer gives me a clean way out. I lower my mouth instead.

I lick the head.

Salt hits my tongue first, followed by a faint bitterness. His cock jerks in my hand. A fresh bead of precum pushes from the slit, and I circle it with the tip of my tongue before closing my lips around him.

The weight surprises me, along with the stretch at the corners of my mouth. I take too much on the first try, gag, and pull back fast enough for my teeth to scrape him.

Fraser hisses.

“Shit.”

“Little less enthusiasm, Saint Pope.” The joke comes out under a moan. His hand cups the back of my neck and rubs once, then drops to the cushion.

I start again.

This time I keep one hand tight around the base and take only the head. My tongue presses underneath while I suck. Fraser’s hips twitch, but he keeps them down. The sound above me is low and wrecked enough to push embarrassment out of the way.

I work lower by degrees. My jaw aches, and I can’t take him the way he took me. I use my fist on the rest, twisting my grip while I suck the top half of his cock.

“Yeah,” Fraser says. His fingers dig into the cushion. “Like that.”

I do it again. The next sound out of him has no words in it.

His cock thickens and pulses against my tongue. Mine is getting hard again where it rests against the couch. I press it into the cushion and take Fraser a little deeper.

The head bumps the back of my tongue. I breathe through my nose and hold him there for one second, then pull off with enough suction to make his stomach clench.

His hand finally lands in my hair. He doesn’t push me down. His fingers tighten every time I swirl my tongue over the slit, so I suck harder when they pull.

Fraser starts fucking my fist, his hips getting rougher with every thrust. I keep my lips around the head and match his pace, drawing hard while his breathing breaks apart above me.

His fingers knot in my hair. “Ben. Fuck, I’m going to come.”

The thought of tasting it makes my tongue press harder for one more stroke. His cock starts to pulse, and my nerve breaks. I pull off.

My fist doesn’t stop. I tighten my grip and stroke him hard, watching the head swell and darken. Fraser arches against the couch. The first streak of come shoots over my knuckles and lands on his stomach.

He curses and comes again. Hot pulses spill across my hand and the ink near his ribs while I keep working him through it. His thighs shake against my shoulders. I slow only when his cock softens in my grip and he pushes weakly at my wrist.

I sit back between his legs, breathing hard. Come shines over my fingers. My lips feel swollen, and the taste of his precum is still on my tongue.

Fraser opens his eyes. “For a straight guy, you’re very determined.”