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I put my mouth to his, gently, just enough to quiet his ramble. His lashes fluttered downward as he leaned into the soft pressure. I broke the moment, removing my lips from his to stare into lakes of brown so deep I’d only seen the same color on a pine marten way up in Newfoundland several years ago.
“My feelings are the same,” I whispered. His sight moved over my face.
“I’m so glad.” He moved into my arms, his mouth slanting over mine. The stroke of his tongue over my lower lip cross-wired my synapses. “We have a lot to talk about, but I don’t feel like talking right now.”
I groaned at the implication of that statement and tugged him closer, tight, so tight he could feel my erection grinding into his pelvis. He rolled his hips. Fireworks ignited along my spine.
“We have three hours,” I hoarsely ground out and let my hands move to his tight ass, cinching him even tighter.
“Then let’s not waste a second.” He kissed me hard, vying for control that I didn’t plan to give up too soon or too easily. “Take me to your bed.”
And I did just that with all due haste.
Chapter Eleven
Baskoro
We had three hours, two condoms, and one large tube of lube.
Also, we had a door that locked.
Which was important when you were stripping off your lover’s clothes.
“Does Kyleen sleep soundly?” I asked, his hands moving down over my bare ass as we struggled to get me as naked as he was. I fumbled to the left, smacked my knee on the nightstand, and cussed softly.
“Like a rock,” Marcus hotly replied and shoved me to his bed. It wasn’t a massive thing by any means, probably a queen like mine. It was the right size for two big men to get comfy, and we did. He moved between my legs, his cock leaking steadily, his dark eyes smoldering as he shimmied up over me, kissing as he went. I writhed under him, pulling at the covers as I pressed my heels into the mattress for leverage.
“Fuck,” I panted.
“Exactly,” he replied, using his teeth to tug at my nipple. My balls tightened in warning. As if he sensed I was on the edge, he licked a path to my throat and then to my mouth. My arms and legs went around him as his tongue and mine tangled. “I love how responsive you are,” he panted when we came up for air. “You’re so pretty spread out under me, your hair flowing over my pillow, your cheeks pink from my whiskers, the rosy—”
“Marcus, save the poetry for my sister.”
His head flew up, lips wet from his torture/adoration of my nipples. “Sorry, what now?”
“That came out wrong. Please get inside me,” I begged, yes, I begged, and he didn’t razz me about it. Teasing could come later. Right now, we have only so much time and weeks’ worth of pent up desire to unleash.
“You’re so pushy,” he said, his lips moving down to my jawline before he pushed back to sit on his heels. Without a wince or a yelp at tight hamstrings. I’d been with guys who couldn’t touch their toes without crying out. Limber goalies for the win.
“You love that about me,” I parried, taking my cock in hand. His nostrils flared as I stroked myself. I threw my left heel to his shoulder, opening myself up wider, an open invitation for him to get his fat dick into my ass if ever there was one. He stared downward, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.
“I love that about you,” he ground out right before wetting his finger and trailing it down over my balls to tickle my taint. My thighs and calves flexed, lifting my ass off the bed as he toyed with my hole. “Sexy as hell,” he breathed out and slid the tip of his thumb into me.
I wanted more. “Get the lube,” I huffed, working my dick steadily.
“Leave that be.” He slapped at my hand, knocking it off my dick. “I want to feel you come when I’m inside you.”
“Bareback?” I asked in confusion. “I’m not sure…”
“No, goofus, in a condom. Later we can go bare.” I sighed at the imagery of him easing into me, skin on skin, then pumping me full. His fingers left my hole for a second, then returned, slicked up and eager.
Later we can go bare. Holy hell, if that didn’t shove me even closer to orgasm, I wasn’t sure what would. Two lanky fingers sliding into me…that was what would shove me closer. He hooked his digits just so, found that lump of nerves, and I saw stars.
“So beautiful,” he roughly whispered, working me open with deft fingers.
“Close…” I gasped. He removed his fingers, wiped them on the pair of blue boxers lying beside my head—ah, so that’s where his underwear had landed—and then took his cock in hand. Arching like a witch’s cat, I ran my hands down over his forearms, clutching at his wrists.
“Easy now,” he said, easing my ass back to the bed before pressing the head of his cock into me. Just the head. The tease.
