Page 103 of Monstrous Serpent

“Yeah no.” I grip the backs of his thighs and stand.

He yelps, legs locking around my waist, arms wrapping around my neck. “What the hell? Put me down.”

“Nope.” I carry him to my room, one hand under his ass, then kick the door closed. “You want my dick? You're getting it.”

I drop him onto the bed, and he bounces once, already propping up on his elbows to watch as I pull my shirt over my head. His eyes drop to my hands as I pop the button on my jeans and shove them down along with my boxers.

He's staring. At my dick. At my abs. Back to my dick.

My cock twitches. Heat spreads across my skin. Nobody has ever looked at me the way he’s looking at me.

I crawl over him, caging him in with my arms, and drag my mouth along his jaw to his ear. “Eyes are up here, Little J.”

“Fuck you.”

“That's the plan. You want to go shower—”

“I already . . . I figured . . .” His face flushes, turning deep red. “Um, I did all that before I came over.”

“Look at you, all prepared and shit.”

“Don't make it weird.”

“Too late.” I kiss the tip of his nose, then his lips, working my way to his neck. “You’re so fucking hot.”

I lift the hem of his shirt, pull it over his head, then throw it onto the floor before using my mouth to map out his body again. I make my way down to his navel, then pop the button to his chinos and rip everything off him until he’s naked, legs spread.

“Vaguely remember someone telling me earlier to blow them.” I kiss and nip his inner thigh. “Can’t remember who it was.”

He growls, but it turns into a moan when I suck his balls into my mouth. “Atlas.”

“Mmm.”

Cody threads his fingers into my hair. “Oh, God.”

“Nope. Just me. Atlas Trembley.”

He smacks my head. “Stop talking and suck me, dipshit.”

“Bossy, aren’t you?”

He pushes his hips up, chasing my mouth.

I pull back, chuckling.

“Atlas, come on. Stop being a—”

I wrap my lips around his dick and take him to the back of my throat.

His back arches off the mattress, and a strangled moan rips out of him. His fingers tighten in my hair, pulling hard enough that my scalp burns, and my dick throbs so hard I grind into the mattress.

Fuck.

I hollow my cheeks, pressing my tongue flat against the underside of his shaft, then swirl it around the head before sinking back down.

“Atlas—fuck—Atlas.”

I hum around him, and his thighs clamp against the sides of my head—which, honestly, is not a bad way to go. I pull off with a wet pop, spit stringing from his tip to my bottom lip, and look up at him. His chest is heaving, stomach muscles clenching, dick flushed dark and twitching against his stomach.