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“Yeah, sorry, business got messy,” he smirks, wiping the remaining crimson smudges from his chin and neck. Setting my bottle of beer on the counter, I stalk forward, slowly invading Riot’s space.
Slightly shorter than me, but more muscular, Riot West is the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever laid eyes on. I learned about the things he did pretty quickly after meeting him, and given the fucked up things I’ve seen in the world, I never batted an eye. Something about the way that he maintains this calm, cool, and at times silly exterior, all while quite literally being a drug dealing, murderous criminal is almost… endearing? Is that the right word?
Jesus Christ I’m fucked up.
When I’m in his space though, he’s so much more. The side of him the rest of the world sees fades away when it’s just him and I. In no time at all, I learned all of the ways to make him tick, and making Riot whimper and beg has become my favorite game.
Reaching out, I lace my index finger through the belt loop of his jeans and yank him forward until his chest is flush against mine.
Exhaling, I lean in, brushing my lips against his cheek, “Did you ride your fucking Ninja here?”
He knows I hate him driving that thing in the winter like he has some kind of death wish, but he insists on taking it everywhere anyway.
“Yeah,” he breathes as I grip the bottom of his hooded sweatshirt, pulling it over his head along with the t-shirt he wore underneath.
“In the winter?” I question, tilting my head down, grazing my nose slightly against his.
“There’s no snow on the ground. I’ll put it up next week,” he hisses as he licks his lips.
Placing one hand on his chest, I slowly trail my fingertips down, feeling every ripple of his hard, tattooed chest. His chiseled, tattooed abs. So much beautiful, intricate ink, his entire body is an immaculate work of art, much of which is mine.
Kind of like him.
“Mmmhmm,” I bite my lip, sliding one hand down, popping the button of his jeans.
“You didn’t touch this yet, did you?” I run my nose down the column of his neck and slide my hand down the front of his pants, gripping his cock tightly.
“No,” he gasps, leaning into me.
“I fucking love it when you do as you’re told, baby boy,” I nip at his collarbone as I gently squeeze his dick. “It’s so much more fun when I get to reward you.”
With my free hand, I reach up and grip his cheeks between my index finger and thumb and smash my lips against his. His rough stubble scratches my chin as I suck his tongue between my lips and he whimpers into my mouth.
“How many times do you think you can stop yourself from coming before you fucking explode?”
“I-I don’t know,” he pants heavily against my open mouth.
“Mmmm, well we’re going to find out,” I bite down on his bottom lip, sucking it between my teeth as I move both hands to his hips and walk him backward the several feet to my bedroom. Consuming his mouth along with the quiet desperation that he pours into me, I don’t stop until his legs hit the mattress.
Riot’s hands skim across my shoulders, up the back of my neck, and grab at my hair as we kiss. A kiss full of unparalleled need and desire. A kiss filled with a thousand unspoken words, and instead of saying them out loud, we swallow them one syllable at a time.
Gripping his jeans, I yank them down, never releasing his lips. His tongue continues to dance with mine, never missing a beat as he wiggles free from his pants. Quickly, I slide my hands up the back of his neck, and as I weave my fingers into his soft green hair, I pull us free from the kiss. Foreheads pressed together, our lips just barely touch as we exhale against each other’s open mouths.
“I want you on your knees,” I breathe, my hands moving down along with his head as Riot slowly lowers himself down like my good boy. “Mmm there we go, now fucking take it out.”
Licking his lips, his pale baby blues glisten as he looks up at me, and his mouth curves into a wicked grin. Grabbing the sides of my sweatpants, he gradually slides them down until my cock springs free, bobbing right in front of his face.
“Such a good fucking boy,” I whisper, running my hands through the strands of his hair, “Now put it in your mouth”
“Yes sir,” his hot breath flutters across the tip of my stiff, dripping cock as he flicks his tongue across the slit, lapping at my salty pre-cum.
Wrapping his lips around my girth, he lowers his head, pressing his tongue against the underside of my shaft as he takes me deep into his throat. As he pulls back, his tongue curls in and his cheeks hollow out, making my eyes roll back. Sliding back down he repeats the motions, slowly and steadily increasing his pace.
“Stroke yourself,” I command, and I flick open my eyes just as he pops his mouth off of my dick. He spits in his hand then fists his cock tightly as he lowers his lips back over me, gradually consuming every goddamn inch.
His head and hand move in tandem with one another. Keeping the same beat, the same rhythm, leaving us both feeling pleasure at the exact same pace. Building up the tension together, so when my balls tingle and tighten, I know he’s on the verge too.
“That’s one,” I growl as I pull his head back until his lips audibly pop as they release my cock. His hand stops stroking, and I smile. “God you listen so fucking well. Get on the bed. Face down. Ass up.”
