Page 13 of Blended Whiskey

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Jamie growled. “Thought you’d never ask.”

It was a wonder they didn’t take a header down the spiral staircase, mouths attached, legs tangled, hands shedding layers of tuxes step by step. They were naked, save for their wedding bands, by the time they hit the bed. Jamie tumbled back first, Aidan coming down on top of him and giving him only a second to catch his breath before stealing another kiss.

Jamie groaned and rocked his hips, chasing the feel of Aidan hard and slick against him. Helping him out, Aidan reached between them and grasped both of their cocks in his hand, pumping. Everything was hot—Aidan’s grip, his cock, his mouth devouring Jamie’s—then as Aidan slid slower, he burned a path down Jamie’s neck to the interlockingNandCtattoo on his chest.

“I changed my mind,” Aidan said between bites at the ink and licks at Jamie’s teased-to-aching nipple. “Want you inmymouth.”

Jamie almost shot in Aidan’s hand, only his confusion at Aidan inching up instead of down saving him.

“Lube?” Aidan asked.

“Bedside table.”

He leaned away and opened the drawer, tossing an “On your knees” over his shoulder. “Like looking up at you,” he added, rolling back and lubing up his fingers.

Scrambling up, Jamie had to grasp the base of his dick to stave off his rapidly approaching orgasm.

“Problem, Whiskey?” asked the smirking Irishman, who shifted onto his side before Jamie’s spread knees.

“I’ll tell you how you can—”

Jamie didn’t need to finish.

As if reading his mind, Aidan leaned forward and took Jamie’s tip in his mouth, circling his head with his tongue, then torturing him with a slow slide all the way to the root. He reached around with his other hand and performed a similar move, lubed finger circling Jamie’s hole, before pushing in, the burn terrible and lovely.

Jamie didn’t know which he wanted to fuck more, Aidan’s mouth or his fingers.

Tossed around in the waves, like that night on the bathroom floor in Galveston, but on his knees this time, all Jamie could do was hold onto Aidan and ride it out. His left hand tangled in the long red locks, emeralds twinkling in his husband’s hair, while his other hand wrapped around Aidan’s dick, pumping him in time with Aidan’s strokes in his ass. Which escalated as Aidan slipped another finger in, going harder, faster, and encouraging Jamie to do the same.

“Fuck, baby,” Jamie panted, and Aidan hummed his approval, hips thrusting his cock into Jamie’s grip while Jamie flailed in his. The sum total of the pleasure—hot, wet heat around his dick, the pounding against his prostate, Aidan’s hard dick in his hand, and the sight of emeralds in his husband’s hair—had Jamie right at the edge. All it took was Aidan glancing up, one look into those dark autumn eyes glazed over with lust, and Jamie came, pitching forward and emptying himself down Aidan’s throat.

He was still returning to his senses when Aidan rumbled in his ear, “Gonna fuck my husband now.”

Then Jamie’s face was in the pillow, the cotton cool on his heated skin, muffling his groans as Aidan hauled him up on his hands and knees, ass in the air, and thrust into him. Worked open already, the slight sting gave way to pleasure right away, Aidan filling him up, keeping him flying in his orgasmic haze. Aidan rode him hard, snapping his hips as he nipped at his shoulder, their hands winding together on the pillow. It wasn’t long before Aidan’s strokes became erratic, and he spilled warm heat into Jamie with a shattered groan.

Arms and legs giving out, Jamie took them down to the mattress together, more than happy with Aidan’s warm, heavy weight on top of him, his husband nuzzling the nape of his neck. “How’d I get so lucky?” Aidan mumbled there.

Jamie laid his cheek on the pillow, peeking over his shoulder. “You’re Irish.”

“We’re both lucky.” Aidan slid to his side and rotated Jamie onto his too, drawing him into another gentle, lingering kiss.

“Irish, Southern—same stock,” Jamie whispered against his lips.

Drawing back, Aidan ran a hand through Jamie’s hair and down the side of his face, eyes warm and content, same as Jamie felt. “Love you, Whiskey.”

Jamie grasped his husband’s left hand, bringing their clasped fists up between them and kissing the side-by-side rings. “Love you too, Irish.”

Alwayswas on their lips when they met again,partnersin their hearts forever.

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