Page 65 of Damián

Ohh…

My mouth goes completely dry.

Santo Dios…

Oliver wants me to make out with him. He is explicitly asking for it.

My cock instantly hardens, pressing uncomfortably tight against the zipper of my jeans, making me wish I were wearing pants instead.

Making out with Ollie… Yes, please!

No, wait… it is a terrible idea.

We are in a moving vehicle… It’s broad daylight, and Silvio and Franco are literally three cars behind us, still hearing everything we are saying.

But after looking at Oliver’s blushing face, asking me to kiss him… well, I don’t give a single damn who is listening, or if this is the worst idea since orange-colored self-tanners and 3D-printed guns.

I hit the blinker, taking a right turn into a multi-level concrete underground parking garage that covers most of the block.

I know this place; Knox’s gym is around this area.

So, I know this parking lot is dark, secluded, and that there are no security cameras in the corners. I park the car in a corner spot between two concrete pillars and turn off the car.

“What are we doing here?” Oliver asks, his breath hitching as the engine cuts off.

But instead of answering, I reach down to the side of my seat, pull the metal lever, and push my seat as far back as it can possibly go.

I unbuckle my seatbelt, spread my knees wide, and open my arms.

“Straddle me,” I tell him, the exact same words I told him back at the Golden Dragon.

Oliver lets out a tiny gasp. For a second, he just stares at me, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

Then, he clicks his seatbelt free, climbs awkwardly over the center console, his knees bracketing my hips as he settles his weight directly into my lap.

The space between the steering wheel and the seat is cramped, pushing our bodies tight against each other, and it makes the physical contact impossibly intense.

I can feel absolutely everything.

The heat radiating off his skin, the weight of his thighs pinning my hips down, his breathing… all of it.

“Kiss me, Ollie,” I whisper.

Oliver crashes his mouth down onto mine, and it feels incredible. He parts his lips, and I completely devour him, my tongue sliding deep into his mouth, tasting the lingering sugar of his pastry.

My skin feels like it’s burning, but it’s not enough.

It’s nowhere near enough.

Oliver moans, and the sound vibrates directly into my mouth. I grab his ass with both hands, my fingers digging into the denim of his jeans, and pull him down against my groin. I thrust my hips up, grinding the thick, aching ridge of my erection directly against his center.

The friction is absolutely intoxicating.

Oliver throws his head back, gasping for air as I roll my hips upward, rubbing myself against him. Even through the layers of our clothes, I can feel how incredibly hard he is.

We are both panting, grinding against each other as our mouths clash together again and again.

“Ollie,” I groan, tearing my mouth away to press kisses down his throat. “Fuck, I need more.”