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“Marcus…baby…so good. I’m not gonna last. Jesus, you’re tight. I can’t believe you’re letting me have your hole.”
That was all I needed to lower the rest of the way down, impaling myself on his dick.
I rode Kai while he arched and whimpered and begged for more. My dick had softened some, but as he worked me, rubbing my prostate, I got hard again.
“Look at you, letting me have your dick when I want it. You’re so fucking fine, baby boy. Never wanted a cock more.”
“Oh God!” he cried out, snapping his hips. His dick spasmed inside me, his body tight as he gave himself to his orgasm.
The second he went limp on the cushions, I said, “I need your hole.”
I sheathed up, lubed my prick, then tugged the blindfold off him. Kai looked dazed, but a small smile curled his lips as he said, “Fuck me, baby.”
I pulled his legs over my shoulders and thrust into him in one swift movement. I jackhammered into him, getting drunk off the suction of his ass on my dick. He was so fucking tight, I wanted to be inside him all night, but I needed to blow my load too.
“Kiss me,” he asked, and I did, tongue pushing into his mouth as I pumped into him over and over again until my world splintered apart. A growl started deep in my chest, falling from my lips when I lost the fight with my orgasm and spilled into the condom.
Kai smiled at me again before closing his eyes. “That was hands down the best sex I’ve ever had. I can’t move. I don’t want to move. I might die.”
I chuckled, untying his wrists. He still had the condom on, so I took that off. Cum ran down his groin, and I licked it up—because why the fuck not?—then tossed both rubbers in the trash can.
“Don’t go,” Kai said when I went for the open glass doors.
“Just gonna clean us up.”
“I don’t want to be cleaned up. I want to smell like sex the rest of the night.”
Fuck, he was going to kill me.
I got back on the futon with him, grabbed the blankets, and covered us up.
Kai fell right asleep, but I stayed awake most of the night, watching him.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Kai
“I can cut your hair for you if you want,” I said to Marcus a few days later when we were about to start getting ready to go see my folks.
He cocked a brow, which was clearly his thing. “Are you saying I need a haircut?”
“No, but yesterday you told me you wanted to get one, that you’ve been too busy because you work too much and have been working even more because you feel guilty that you’ve been enjoying your life so much.”
I’d been coming to his room after work every night, and we slept together and fucked and were both very careful not to mention that I’d told Marcus I liked him and that he’d admitted to liking me too—which I still couldn’t fucking believe.
Marcus stalked over to me, wearing nothing but a pair of boxer trunks, and pressed me against the counter. “Don’t put words in my mouth. None of that stuff about work or enjoying my life came from me.”
“Don’t try to sound all demanding and annoyed when I know you’re not.”
He grinned, and I wasn’t sure there was anything in the world better than when I made Marcus smile. “You know how demanding I can be…” He ground his groin against mine. I refused to get hard and sidetrack us, so I put a hand on his chest and gently pushed him back.
“Be good.”
“Baby boy, I’m always good.”
Fuck. There went my dick. “Stop that! You’re going to make me want to have sex with you. We’re getting ready, and we’re going to see my folks.”
He groaned. “Why do I always listen to you? Clippers are under the sink. Let me get a chair.”
I couldn’t pretend it didn’t give me the warm fuzzies that Marcus seemed to have a different set of rules when it came to me. I tried not to let myself believe it meant this would go anywhere. I would take a page out of his book and be a realist. Our differences and the long distance and a million other things meant that what we had now was all we ever would, but…
Holy shit. For the first time in my life, I wanted a relationship. How in the hell had that happened?
I grabbed the supplies, and then Marcus returned with a stool and sat down. “Which length?”
He handed over the attachments and told me what he liked.
The familiar buzz filled the air, and it didn’t take me long to clean up his neck and fix his fade. There was something really fucking hot about sitting in his bathroom with him, doing his hair. Strangely, it felt almost as intimate as fucking, though it wasn’t as if I’d never done someone’s hair before. I could corn row or put in box braids. I used to help Mom braid Faith’s hair when I was younger. Later, I’d made extra money doing hair for people in my old neighborhood, but it had never felt like it did with Marcus.
