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“Do you?” His breath brushes my lips, and I nod quickly. His eyes fall to my mouth. “Why?”
I’m shaking violently, thoughts all fuzzy in my skull. “Because… because…”
“Because why?” He pushes into me harder.
I’m fucking melting.
What the fuck is going on??
“Because I’d rather be with you,” I whisper the truth. The first true thing I’ve said so far.
His fierce gaze is stuck on my lips as he swallows visibly. “Yea?”
I nod again and choke, “Mhm.”
“Good…” he hums, releasing the grip on my shirt, though he doesn’t step back. He keeps me pinned to the wall, covering my rapidly thumping heart beneath his palm. He cups my pectoral muscle gently, a hiss escaping his lips. “What is happening to me…”
I don’t think that statement-like question was meant for me. It sounds like he’s asking himself… A war going on inside him. A bloody battle.
Then something insane happens. His hips thrust forward, slowly. A leisurely push into mine that drags a whimper from inside my throat.
The contact… Holy Jesus, the feel of his crotch touching mine. I could pass out.
It isn’t until he lets his linger there that I notice how stiff my cock is between us.
And it’s not the only one.
“God, forgive me…” he mumbles, breathless and barely audible.
And then his mouth inches, it advances… it fucking washes over mine like a wave crashing onto a shore.
I gasp, because I can’t help it, but he eats it up like a delicious treat, lips capturing mine in bold yet hesitant suction. My lower lip is pulled into his mouth, sucked like candy before his tongue swipes it gently.
He groans. He fucking groans into my mouth, hands flying up to hold my jaw, keeping me still while he kisses me fucking lifeless.
I’m dead. I’ve died and gone to heaven. Some sort of sick heaven where you’re allowed to make out with your father.
No. He’s not my father. Not even one bit, especially now.
He’s the man who’s grinding me into the wall, fisting my hair and swallowing me like I’m the last drop of water to clench his thirst.
James’s hard body ripples into mine, strong hands holding me in place while I just flutter against him like a leaf in the wind. My body is a completely useless vessel in this moment, made purely to give him whatever he wants. I’m barely even kissing him back. I mean, I know I am, but he’s doing most of the work, gripping me, sucking, licking, and biting my mouth numb.
A raspy noise escapes him as his hips meld with mine, the long, thick shape of him writhing into my own. I can’t motherfucking believe I’m feeling his dick right now.
I can’t believe he’s kissing me right now…
Of all the things I’ve conjured up in my mind over the years, this one takes the cake. I never could have dreamt up something like this… This level of sheer, naughty perfection.
Finally, my brain jumpstarts my body back into human mode, and I slide my hands up his sides, clutching him and hanging on for dear life as I glide my tongue over his. He whimpers, tugging my hair until it stings, panting between my lips while we devour one another.
I’m burning the fuck up. We might as well be standing in the fire, heat surrounding us where we writhe, using the wall for support. My hands move up to his chest, and I feel the muscles constricting beneath his shirt, his strength and his size twirling my brain into a frenzy of lust and greedy desire.
I want more. I need more.
More of him sucking my bottom lip, then the top, then the bottom again, biting it with tender nips from his teeth, his tongue working to soothe the pain that tightens my balls and has me clenching with an unbearable yearning to be filled.
God, please never let this stop.
