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My hands dropped to his hips, hooking the band of his boxer briefs but doing no more.
“What are you doing?” Marek asked, already breathless from all of the kissing. “Why’d you stop?”
“May I?” I gave a slight tug on the fabric.
“Like you even need to ask.”
“I’ll always ask,” I murmured, pressing soft kisses to his hip bone and moving inward as I dragged the black fabric down his legs, leaving a gentle trail across his groin and the top of his thigh. “I’ll always get your permission.” I peeled them off the rest of the way and dropped them onto the floor. Pushing him backward into the corner and spreading his thighs wider, I pulled his hips forward so he could at least recline a bit, giving him a better view and myself easier access. “And I’ll always stop.”
“Got it,” he murmured.
I held his gaze for a moment to make sure he meant it. He seemed to, so I proceeded, running my hands over his body and appreciating the sight of him in the daylight. He was lean but he had definition beneath his pale skin—all evidence of his nocturnal employment, hauling cases around the back rooms of bars. His chest was smooth, but a faint line of dark hair ran between his navel and his groin, drawing my eyes along it to the trimmed patch of hair at the end.
His cock was well on its way to being hard but I couldn’t wait anymore. I sucked him into my mouth and slid all the way down.
“Oh fuck,” he whispered, angling his hips upward and thrusting slightly as his cock continued to harden against my tongue.
I pulled back slowly, maintaining the suction until popping off. Gripping the base of his shaft, I slapped the tip against my tongue a couple of times. He hissed something else under his breath and licked his lips, gripping the edge of the counter.
Taking him into my mouth again, I slid up and down slowly, from root to tip and back. I sucked on his crown, earning me a moan and another flick of his hips.
As I licked and swirled my tongue along his length, my hands drifted up his body again, wrapping around his wrists and bringing his hands to my hair. His fingers splayed and tightened, the light flare of pain sending tingles through my body. I wanted more and I think he did too.
Pulling back gently, I flicked my tongue against the underside of his cock and gazed up at him. “Do you want to fuck my throat?”
He nodded quickly. “Yeah. But I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t.” I licked a stripe from his balls up to the tip and swallowed him eagerly.
“Oh, shit…” His hands seized my hair, holding me in place with my nose buried in the thatch of hair above his cock, inhaling the lingering scent of my soap and the smell of his arousal. Once he got over the shock, he released the pressure but not his hold and started to tentatively thrust upward.
I moaned around his cock, thrilled he was actually doing what he said he wanted. I was happy to give it to him, to give him anything, sexual or otherwise.
His hands twisted in my hair and his hips snapped a little harder, a little faster, driving his cock in and out of my mouth. I kept my throat as relaxed as I could, giving him the space to go farther.
“Oh my God, Misha. Fuck.” He thrust harder, inadvertently making me gag. My hands flew to his, keeping them tangled in my hair and his cock right where it was, even though his hips stuttered with reluctance.
If I could have spoken, I would have told him to keep going. As it was, in my current position I could only meet his concerned gaze and hope mine reassured him. He didn’t seem convinced, so I took his cock all the way in myself and swallowed around it.
“Shit that feels amazing. But do you really want me to keep going?” he asked with a groan, rolling his hips upward as I backed off slowly, sucking him all the way to his crown. His cock popped free and I gulped in a breath, wiping the saliva from my chin and stroking him with it.
“I want you to do what feels good,” I replied.
He still seemed hesitant, like he was ashamed to ask for anything. While I waited for him to formulate a request, I went back to kissing and licking his length, stroking him steadily.
“I want…” His lids fluttered closed when I gripped his cock and rubbed my thumb around his crown, spreading pre-cum everywhere, mixing it with spit. His eyes opened slowly, meeting mine with so much lust I had to pinch the tip of my own cock to keep from coming on the spot.
“I want to come down your throat,” he said at last.
I couldn’t help but chuckle as I leaned up and kissed him, breaking away to murmur, “Such an easy request, detka.”
His brow furrowed but I kissed him again and resumed stroking his cock, hoping to smooth it back out. He slid his hands into my hair and cupped the back of my head, keeping me close so he could kiss me harder, deeper, longer, until he pulled away panting.
Returning my full attention to his cock, I sucked the head in earnest while my hand stroked his shaft, not necessarily hard nor fast—a steady climb before the ultimate release. Based on his tortured moans and heavy breathing, he was almost there. Not to mention the squirming. As soon as it started, I knew he was getting closer.
To make sure he didn’t slide off the counter, I ran my free hand up his body to his chest and kept it there just in case I had to push him back to safety.
“Oh, fuck, Misha. I’m so close.Sofucking close. I need—Iwantto come!”
