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Swallowing a groan, I nod, sliding back so he can get to my pants. His hands are steady as he undoes my pants and frees my erection. “God, Michael. I love your dick.”
I groan, pushing up into his hand. I keep my eyes peeled. The road is still fairly empty, so I’m not worried about hitting someone. I just have to keep the wheel straight so we stay between the lines.
Without teasing me, Damon puts me into his mouth. “Mmm …” he moans around a mouthful of my dick. His small hand jerks me, wrapped tight around my cock. “Fuck my mouth, baby,” he murmurs, then wraps his lips back around me.
I set the cruise control to the exact speed limit and move to the right lane.
Then I thread my hand in his hair and push his head down while I thrust up. I think he’s used to it by now because he barely gags. His mouth gets wetter as I shove up.
“Ah, fuck. Baby. Suck me deeper. Take more in your mouth.”
Damon is great at taking direction. He tightens his lips around my dick and sucks me hard and I grip his hair harder. Damon swirls his tongue around the head of my cock, then slides his mouth down my straining length. I feel the head of my cock hit the back of his throat, and I groan, loving how it feels when his throat contracts around my dick.
With strong thrusts, I fuck his mouth, going as deep as I can without gagging him. He bobs his head, slurping noisily and messily around me. I glance down to see my lap full of Damon and his soft and beautiful hair, my hand tangled in the strands and I lose it. “I’m going to come. Fuck … Damon.”
With that, I blow my load down his throat, his swallowing motions prolonging my orgasm.
When he pulls off my dick, I drag him up to me, kissing him deep, taking some of my orgasm into my mouth, rolling it around, then giving it back to him. I’m careful to keep one eye on the road, but I devour his mouth.
I let him up for air and he grins at me, biting his bottom lip. “I didn’t think I would do something like that. What are you doing to me, Michael Prince?”
“Trying to rescue you, if you let me.” I don’t mean to say it, but it slips out.
He sits back in his seat and doesn’t speak for a while. I almost wish I didn’t say anything and ruin what we just had, but he needs to know my plans.
Blowing out a breath, he mutters, “I want you to. I’m scared, but I think I’m ready.”
Jerking the wheel, I pull over to the side of the road. When I’m parked, I turn to him and frame his face in my hands. “Yeah? You want to come back with me?”
“I … uh … I think so. Yeah. I think I need to. It’s only been a week, but you make me feel safe. You make me feel loved. You make me feel like I’m important.”
“You’re all those things, baby. I will always keep you safe.”
“I know. That’s why I think I’m ready. If my family tries … anything, you’ll be there. Right?”
“Of course. Always.”
“Then … yeah. I want to go with you. I’m not sure what I’ll do about my job or anything. Like, maybe I’ll need a few months to figure it out.”
“Months?”
“Yes, months. Long enough for me to get my passport, try to save some money … make sure this is what we want. Give us time to be sure.”
“Are you sure? About us?” I ask, moving my hands from his face to clasp his hands.
He removes his glasses, looking me in the eye when he says, “I’m surer about you than I have been about anything in my life. But I’m … me. I’m not … I’m not …”
Gripping his chin, I force him maintain eye contact. “Don’t do that. I think you’re amazing, Damon. You’re handsome, you have a beautiful soul, you’re smart, you’re … you’re everything I’ve ever wanted. Don’t ever doubt that. No matter what anyone told you in the past, you’re not that. Do you understand?”
Tears spill over his lashes, but he nods. “I know all that, but it’s hard. Michael, I’ve been hearing those things since my mother died. I can’t shake it off. But you’re doing a great job in helping. That … weird space inside me that stored all those insults, it’s breaking down. You’re … making me whole again.” His shiny eyes meet mine and he smiles. “So yeah, I’m so sure about you Michael. I’m sure.”
After getting checked into the hotel, we shower and Damon washes his hair. After he unwraps it from his towel, I help him detangle it. He smiles at me in the mirror, giving me some encouragement as I do it.
I love this. I want to do this for the rest of our lives. As long as he has hair, that is.
We finish his hair and get dressed—Damon in those fucking sexy black jeans that hug his thighs and tight ass. His cropped shirt shows off a strip of skin and the hem of his pretty purple lace panties peeks from the waist of his pants. I start to head for the door when Damon says, “Wait.”
I turn to him and he has something in his hand. “I want … to try this tonight. See how it looks on me?” I walk to him and see that he has eyeliner. “You think I should?”
