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I should kiss him.
I should kiss the fuck out of him.
But I don’t. I can’t.
“Harder,” he gasps. “Harder, Matthew.”
I tighten my hold on him, moving my hand faster. Watching him is like taking my first taste of alcohol, my first hit of drugs. Heady, mind-blowing. It makes my entire world spin and tilt. I don’t know which way is up, and I don’t fucking care either.
Let me drown in him.
“God yes,” he moans and a second later, Coop explodes across my hand, some of the warm spend hitting my stomach.
His head drops back against the lounger, as I pulse my fist around his softening cock.
He grunts at the sensation and then finally pulls out of my grip, his eyes closed, his chest heaving.
I stare down at my messy hand, ropes of white cum sitting against my knuckles. Before he can open his eyes, I bring my fist to my mouth and taste. A flick of my tongue, a bitter taste hitting my lips.
Fuck. That’s not half bad.
Not bad at all.
“You’re going to be the death of me, Matthew,” Coop says, his voice strained, his eyes still closed.
Same, I think as I reach over for my shirt and wipe my hand clean. Then I slide the fabric across his groin, mopping up the mess he made before cuddling back into his side, pressing my face into his shoulder and throwing my leg over his.
What a sight we must make.
Two nude men, cuddling out on a balcony, under the stars.
But no one can see us, and honestly, if they could, I wouldn’t give a fuck.
If Coop can make me feel this good, who the fuck are they to tell me it’s bad?
Chapter Twelve
Coop
Matthew is unfurling like a spring bloom. Every day he curls around me every chance he gets and lets me kiss my way across his body, my mouth always settling on his dick. In those moments, the way he gently tugs on my hair, the sounds he makes… I nearly lose my mind.
I never expected him to let me do this to him, but he does. Multiple times a day. When he wakes up and before he falls asleep, like clockwork, begging me for it in his own silent way.
And he always insists on reciprocating. Just hand jobs, but fuck, I love him touching me anywhere. Anytime. I’ll take it.
I’ll so take it.
“What do you want to do this weekend?” I ask as I lick my swollen lips. I just popped off him, watched his sleepy eyes take me in as my throat contracted around his dick.
Best way to wake up, in my opinion.
“Dunno.”
“I was thinking we could go to Paris.”
Matthew rolls his eyes, his lips pulled open in a laugh. “Fuck off. We aren’t going to Paris.”
My lips kiss their way up his chest as I grind my cock against his thigh. “But we could go. I have a jet we could charter.”
