Page 44 of Last Destination

“Are you going to drink that?” His question held no accusation, but more worry than I would have expected.

“I didn’t buy it as an ornament.” I raised an eyebrow at him. “Why does it matter? You said yourself. We have to wait hours — who knows how long? It’ll help me sleep.”

A war waged within his features while he no doubt attempted his rebuttal. I watched in fascination while the bottle called to me in ways no other man or woman ever could.

Ambrose Park was an enigma. Delicate features, but determinedly masculine. Rounded cheeks and smooth skin, but a hardness that belied a much harder man beneath. Thick, pin-straight black hair, even in the unbearable humidity that turned my curls into head fuzz. His rich brown eyes were so light they were almost honey and could either eviscerate you, or set you on fire in the absolute best way, depending on his mood.

The glint in his eyes right now sent a shiver through every limb.

“Do you trust me?” he asked.

I licked my dry lips, suddenly nervous. “Yes?”

“Hand me the vodka.” He held out his hand with a “come hither” beckon, and I tightened my hold around its neck.

When I didn’t comply, his sharp golden gaze fixed on mine. “I want to try something else with you. While we’re alone.” The weight of each word landed like erotic pinpricks. “But I’m not willing to suck your cock without you cleaning up first, because the jungle is gross, and this” — he waved around the shack with a dramatic flourish — “is about all I can handle in that department.”

He left the doorway to kneel in front of me at my feet. He gripped the bottom of the vodka bottle. I refused to release it, but he had my full attention.

“Pull your shorts down and let me clean you.” He drew in a shuddering breath. “Let me suck you — teach me what you like.”

Every blood cell in my body mainlined into my cock, and it leaped in my shorts, pitching a girthy tent in front of Ambrose’s face.

His sexy smirk caught me completely off guard, and I released the vodka before I recognized the action.

“Pull your shorts down, sir,” he coaxed, massaging my dick with one hand over the cloth, sending screaming tingles to every part of my groin. I bucked against him, my body desperate for his touch even though my mind was desperate for the bottle. I shoved down my shorts with both hands, my cock springing free and bobbing against my stomach. My piercings glistened in the dull light, and I bit my lip watching Ambrose stare at them in utter fascination. I couldn’t wait to tease him with every barbell, and milk his prostate with every slide of metal against his sensitive hole.

He unscrewed the cap of the bottle, and the astringent scent filled the air between us. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end at the familiar, soothing smell. Then Ambrose poured the vodka over my crotch and down my pelvis, rubbing it all over my shaft and massaging the liquid into my skin. He rubbed carefully around each piercing with sensitive, gentle movements. The liquid was cool to the touch, but his hands on me scorched, setting every nerve on fire. When he gripped my cock and tugged upward, pre-cum wept from my tip in anticipation.

He set down the bottle down still half full, then sat up on his knees. His gaze was expectant, flitting between my naked, sterilized cock and my face. “Tell me how you like it.”

This gorgeous man was distracting me on purpose. I wasn’t stupid. Nor could I bring myself to care. My first sip could wait if this was how he wanted to keep me entertained. But he’d been in control for long enough.

“You want to suck me, baby?” I shifted down in the seat until my cock was jutting right at his mouth. “You want to make me come down your throat so hard you choke on me? Is that what you want, baby? Tell me. I need to hear the words.”

Lust flooded his hooded eyes and filled me with equal satisfaction. He swallowed hard, then opened his mouth to speak, grazing his soft lips over my bobbing tip with his confession.

“I want to suck you, sir. Suck you, fuck you. Let me choke on you.”

Oh, me, with the “sir.” My cock twitched at the title, and now I was truly ready for all he would give me. This man really did want me to fill him up.

“Wrap your lips around my tip,” I commanded and brought my hands up to cradle his head. When he complied, the warmth of his mouth and tongue enveloped me in a tight, silky grip. He lapped at the Prince Albert piercing at the end of my cock, and each light tug forced fireworks to explode at the base of my spine.

“Slowly take me in. Hollow your cheeks, open your throat. See how far you can take me, baby.”

I guided him down the length of my shaft and he took inch by glorious inch, stopping only halfway to adjust to my size. Spittle dripped from the side of his mouth, and little tears gathered at the corners of his eyes, but he never faltered.

Ambrose wasn’t the king of the jungle, or the castle, but I could see in this moment how he could be king of the boardroom. I was pretty certain I was his first, yet he took to the task as if his life depended on it. He was dominant in his submission to me, so perhaps a switch like I was, and I relished the power he relinquished yet still held over me in equal measure.

A delightfully erotic paradox of orgasmic proportions.

My tip hit the back of his throat and when he swallowed, my whole body seized with pleasure. I bucked up into him, forcing myself deeper and reveling in the tight squeeze before I pulled his head back so he could breathe. He retracted little by little, pressing the pad of his tongue against the underside of my shaft and against every single piercing in my Jacob’s Ladder. The move made me want to jump out of my skin and into his.

“Fuck, baby. You’re so good at this.” Praise fell from my lips when he took me deeper again, every slide of his tongue pushing me so close to the edge it hurt. His pace became relentless, and when he cupped my balls, massaging them with gentle fingers, I shoved my cock as deep as I’d fit into the tight muscle at the back of his tongue and held him against me as hot cum coated the back of his throat.

He didn’t fight me at all. He leaned into it, swallowing around me while I came, extending my orgasm into absolute euphoria, the hit far more potent than any drug I’d ever tried. When he released my throbbing cock, he looked up at me with shining eyes, flushed cheeks, and a satisfied grin the size of a Cheshire Cat.

“You are so fucking hot.” He licked his lips, emphasizing the point. “That was so fucking hot.” He looked down at his lap and his cheeks bloomed a deeper pink. He had a wet spot across his khakis. “I can’t tell you the last time I came in my pants.”