Page 128 of The Rut in the Road

He laughed again, then bent to help me, tossing the garment off the side of the bed before beginning to undo the buttons of my shirt. I slid my hands across the hot skin of his belly, enjoying both the warmth and softness of his skin, the slight roughness of the dark hair just below his belly button. He backed away from my hands, sliding back to his feet off the bed, then stripped off shirt, undershirt, slacks, and boxer briefs.

I’d been trying to undo my own fly, the button made more difficult by the limited range of the fingers on my left hand, but I’d paused to appreciate Raj’s lean, muscular form, particularly the part of him that was keenly interested in my attention.

“Don’t stop on my account,” he said, smiling, nodding slightly at me.

I felt my face flush even more, feeling oddly caught out, and I couldn’t decide whether I should keep going or?—

“Let me help,” Raj murmured, climbing back on the bed to finish undoing the zipper, then tugging off my khakis and socks. I expected him to come back for my shorts, but, instead, he pushed my legs a little wider, nuzzling behind the back of one knee. It should have tickled, but, instead, it was deeply erotic, making me gasp.

“God,” he breathed into my thigh, slowly working his way up my leg. “Your skin.” He pressed another kiss to my thigh. “Yoursmell.” He breathed in deeply, his nose in the inside of my thigh. He did pull off my shorts, then. He looked up my body, his pupils blown wide as he said, “Your taste.”

I let out a gasp as he drew me into his mouth, the heat of it shocking in the best possible way. His big hands pushed my thighs wider, and I let my eyes close, every feeling I had concentrated in the places where his hands and mouth made contact with my body.

He let out a soft, low growl, and it sent a shudder of pleasure through me.

“Raj,” I gasped out.

He took this as encouragement—as he should have—and began doing things to me with his tongue that I completely lacked the ability to follow as the sensations rolled through me.

I wanted it to last—wanted to prolong the incredible feeling of having Rajesh Parikh worshiping me with his lips and tongue and just the barest hint of teeth.

I also wanted to push him. To make him lose the carefully cultivated control that he nearly always had.

“Raj.”

He hummed around me, and I let out a sound that made no sense, even to me.

“R-Raj,” I managed again.

He slid his mouth off me, nuzzling against my stomach. “What?”

“I—” I swallowed, uncertain if I had the audacity to say what I wanted.

Raj licked a stripe across my lower stomach, and I shuddered. “What?” he all but purred against my skin.

I swallowed, fire building in my belly. “I want you,” I managed.

He nuzzled my stomach again. “And I want you,” he grumbled into my skin.

“No—I wantyou.” I swallowed, then reached down and lifted his chin so that he would look at me. “I want you inside me.”

He went very still, and I thought maybe he didn’t want to, or didn’t want me, but then I noticed how very wide his pupils had gone—how rough and raspy his breaths—and, when I glanced down to make sure I wasn’t wrong, how hard he was, the tip of his cock shiny with moisture.

He swallowed. “I—I don’t want to hurt you,” he rasped.

I pulled his face up to mine, and right before I kissed him, I whispered, “You won’t do anything to me I don’t want.”

He growled, not softly, but with a sharpness and a depth that I’d never heard from him before. “Mera ravi,” he breathed, then kissed me hard enough that I wondered if my lips might bruise.

I didn’t care.

No, I did. I loved it. I wanted him to kiss me like that more often, wild and desperate and like he couldn’t get enough of me.Like he wanted to somehow get inside and under my skin, not just up against it.

Then he pulled back. “Roll over.”

I hurried to comply, and felt him settle a pillow under the front of my hips. I expected his weight on them, or on my back, but, instead, I felt his hands run down my sides until he pushed apart my ass-cheeks.

And then licked.