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Still, I’m happy to let him practice any time he wants. I’m a nice guy like that.
“Relax that throat for me, baby,” I whisper. “Breathe through your nose.”
His nostrils flare, eyes shooting fire at me, and I bite back a smile.Fuck. This guy. He kills me.
I clasp his cheek with my other hand, caging his head to my dick, knowing he secretly loves it when I do this, stripping him of control. He wants to let go, to not think, and I’m more than happy to be the one to take the reins.
I fuck his mouth with gentle, languid thrusts that I know drive him crazy. Inked, calloused fingers slide up my thighs, over my hips, slipping under my shirt. He digs his nails into my abs, eliciting a sharp gasp, and a punch of my hips.
Surprisingly, he doesn’t gag.
Unsurprisingly, that’s what fucking does me in.
He increases the suction on my cock so brutally, it’s borderline punishing, and yet my eyes roll back, shivers racing down my spine, white-hot pleasure fracturing my vision into a blur.
“W-Way—”
That’s all the warning I’m capable of.
I glare at the ceiling, neck straining with the groan trapped behind my teeth, rattling my throat. My fingers twitch around his hollowed cheeks, feeling the way he literally sucks the cum out of me.
My hips jerk, thrusting unevenly, my ass clenching against the ragged fabric of the sofa.
“Fuckfuckfuckfuck—”I hiss through my teeth, before cutting off with a silent gasp up at the ceiling.
Waylon moans around me, and I slide my hands down, fitting them loosely around his neck, chasing his pulsing swallows.
When I’ve finally stopped coming, he pulls back, letting me slip free of his lips. I look down, watching through my lashes as he swipes his tongue over his puffy red lips. His piercing winks out at me and I shudder, remembering how that little steel ball felt dragging over my flesh.
“Jesus,” I mutter.
He chuckles lowly. Climbing to a partial stand, he barely gets upright before I’m reaching forward and grabbing him by the waist, yanking him to me. Anoomphescapes his lips as he crashes down on top of me.
Turning onto his side, he lifts his head just enough to peer up at me, grinning that deep, dimpled smile that never fails to reach into my chest and squeeze my heart in a vice.
“Hi.”
“Hi,” I breathe.
He lifts a finger, stroking gently down my throat. “You okay?” he says in a deep, raspy voice.
I quirk a brow. “Are you?”
“I’m perfect.”
The way he says it, so simply, so easily and contentedly? Yeah, the fire licking up my throat has got nothing on that. Nothing has ever burned so good, knowing I put that sound in his voice, and that peaceful look on his face.
“Sorry if I—”
“Shut up,” I tell him quietly. “Would’ve stopped you if I wasn’t enjoying it.”
Waylon bunches his face like he’s not quite sure he believes me. “Yeah?”
I roll my eyes. “Yes.” Wrapping my arms fully around him, I hoist him up, giving him no choice but to press his cheek to my chest. I rest mine on his head. He smells like my shampoo and I bury a small smile into his hair.
After a moment, I add ruefully, “As if how fast I fucking came after that wasn’t evidence enough.”
His back shakes with a silent laugh. “Oh, and not me sucking down your cock?”
