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Pulling back, he glares at me. “Where the fuck’s your underwear?”
Eyes wide, I say, “I can’t exactly wear any with my leather shorts.”
His teeth clamp together, eyes dark and wild.
I shrug, chewing my lip.
Squeezing his eyes shut, he drops to his knees and presses his face to my stomach with a groan.
Shuddering, I curl my toes into the rug. “Jealous?”
Tipping his head back, he digs his scruffy chin into my belly button, making me gasp. “You’ve no idea,” he says, voice deeper than it was moments ago. He dips his head, licking at my cock as he starts tugging my jeans down over my hips.
“Fuck, I’ve missed this,” he rumbles over my hot flesh, mouthing up my shaft. Sucking the tip into his mouth, he laps at the pre-cum weeping from my slit. Humming, he blinks up at me, cheeks hollowed.
I thrust in his mouth, seeking deeper.
Finally, he gets my jeans down around my ankles. Releasing my dick, he bends down, helping me kick off my shoes. I rest my hands on his wide shoulders, using him for balance as I lift one leg then the other so he can get my jeans and socks off.
Left in nothing but my Lola’s crop top, my dick juts out obscenely, bobbing right at his scruffy face.
“God, look at you,” he says, fisting my length. Pushing to a stand, he uses his other hand to clasp the back of my neck, fingers tugging at my thick hair, wrenching my head back. “Do you have any fucking idea how sexy you are to me?”
I shiver.
He shakes his head, huffing a breath like he still can’t believe it—feeling this way for another guy. His earlier words play back to me, and I lick my lips, forcing the question out. “So, there hasn’t been anyone…”
“No, no one since you. I…I tried.”
I squeeze my eyes shut.
“I went to a bar—a gay bar, just to see. And, yeah, I can appreciate another male’s body, but God, sweetheart, no one fucks me up like you do.”
Gulping, I peer up at him through my thick lashes. “Same.”
He growls through his teeth. “No one else has touched this?” he says, squeezing my length.
I give a little shake of my head. “No. Just you. Only you.”
That’s not true, and he knows this, but there’s been no one elsesincehim, and that’s all that matters.
“No one else has kissed this perfect mouth?” he asks, leaning up to bite my bottom lip.
“No one.”
Snarling, he bites down harder, sucking, gnawing until I’m sure my lip will split and bruise. I fuck up into his fist, stomach muscles clenching, thighs pulsing with how tightly I curl my toes.
I’m a mess. Just like I always am with him. A weeping, flushed, pleading mess.
My fingers clench and flex at my sides, begging to touch him.
“C-can I?” I ask, my voice pitching.
“Can you what?”
“Touch you? Taste you?”
His chest vibrates against mine—bare and hot against my thin shirt. “Sweetheart, you never have to ask.”
