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“What should my first tattoo be?” I ask, and Emery sits up a bit to straddle my lap. Okay, so if he moves an inch closer, he’ll notice my predicament. My hands splay across his lower back, trying to keep him still, but he’s too wiggly, and a second later, his groin hits mine. He glances down at my tented pants, and then his eyes snap up to meet mine. And now our lips are directly opposite each other. All I’d need to do is lean forward a bit and take.
“You’re hard.”
“It happens. It’s biological,” I say, clearing my throat. “You were just going to tell me what my first tattoo should be.”
Emery glances down at my hard cock and shifts against it, and I huff in exasperation. He’s not going to let me get away with this.
“Em,” I whisper, and his gaze meets mine once more.
“Right. I’m distracted. Your dick is ruining my concentration. Um, right. Tattoos.” He taps his pursed lips and then says, “It depends on if you want something fun or something with significance?”
“Honestly, I haven’t ever thought about it.”
“Hm,” he says and looks away. “Could do something fun. Like a big pair of tits…or maybe a large ass. Or a dick.”
He glances down at my crotch again, and I sigh.
“I don’t want tits, a dick, or an ass for my first tattoo.”
“Yeah, don’t blame you. That was a terrible suggestion. Ooh, maybe like anI heart momtattoo because your mom is cool. If I had a mom like that, I’d get that shit in a heartbeat.”
“No thanks.”
“Hm…” he says, wiggling some more. I’m not sure if he’s doing it on purpose at this point or not, but it’s driving me bonkers. I try holding onto his hips, but it doesn’t help. Nothing can tie this guy down.
“How about something serious then? Like,” he reaches down between us and pulls the sweatshirt up over his stomach and points to his hip. God, his skin, all that color and detail. I want to spend hours just examining him.
He leans back, his bulge pressing against mine, and he lets out a shaky exhale. Because he’s just as hard as I am.
“Um, yes, right,” his words trailing off as he tries to focus. “See this here,” he adds, and I tilt my head down to get a better look. My thumb traces the swirling letters, and I read,“We grow accustomed to the Dark, when Light is put away.”
“It’s part of an Emily Dickinson poem. God, that girl was certifiable, but damn she could write. It’s a good reminder to let myself have nice things,” he explains and lets the sweatshirt fall back down, but I keep my hand on his bare skin under the hoodie and let my thumb trace shapes against his hip. I like the feel of him, his soft skin over hard muscle. It’s so unlike anything I’ve touched on another person before. It’s quickly becoming addicting.
“So…” he gulps, “I guess that was another freebie. I’m such a pushover. Lex is always telling me not to let people take advantage, but do I listen? Nope. Never. I should have gotten something from you first before I went and showed another hand.”
I tug him a little closer, our dicks pressing against each other fully now. And then I can’t help myself. His mouth is hovering right there.
“What do I owe you?” I whisper, my lips brushing against his.
“Oh my god,” he mouths almost inaudibly, and then we just breathe into each other’s mouths as he comes to a decision.
“How about more tongue and maybe some light petting? I’m not against dry humping either. Actually, for the record, I’m not against anything. You can touch me anywhere you want. Not that you have to, but you know, if we’re setting boundaries, I mean.”
My lips quirk up because he’s just so damn adorable. I tilt my head and press my mouth to his. He leans into it and moans loudly because, of course he does.
This guy cannot shut up, even with a tongue in his mouth.
He wiggles relentlessly on my lap as his hands slide into my hair, tugging and pulling on the strands. He moans again and then sucks on my tongue like I’m a piece of candy.
I groan as our dicks slide against each other and his hands tighten in my hair. He’s grinding against me roughly now, his tongue fucking into my mouth as he eats his way to the core of me.
And then he’s wrenching his mouth from mine and breathing shakily
“Oh fuck,” he says, his hands still painfully grasping my hair. “Oh,fuck.”
He glances down at our tented sweats and groans loudly. “Tell me I can touch you. I want to touch your cock.”
“What do I get for it?” I ask, and Emery’s flushed cheeks darken.
