Pulling off with a groan—because really, who would want to stop sucking this glorious cock—I use my doctor voice. “This is not lying back, sweetheart. C’mon, be a good pillow princess for me.”
“I…that mouth of yours,” he says, going slack as his legs rest on my shoulders. “I’ll try.”
“Awww, such a hardship,” I say, grinning. “Don’t worry, I’ll let you fuck my mouth another time.”
“I’ll hold you to it,” he says as he smacks my lips with his heavy, stiff length. “You really do have such a sweet dirty mouth.”
His sex-rough voice is deeper, and his accent, which has always been my weakness, is stronger and less controlled.
Let’s see if we can strip away the rest of his control, shall we?
I smile and bury my face under his balls. The scratch of his hair against my lips and cheeks and nose cause a shiver to race down my spine. I lap at each sac and then lay openmouthed suction on his taint, pushing my tongue against my favorite bit of no man’s land until he begins to shout in Arabic.
22
Omar
“Ibnel balla’a!”
“Ya gazma!”
Anders smiles against my taint, and my face flushes. Cocksucker and fuck you are usually insults, but in this case…not so much.
I bite my lip as he continues to take me apart in a way—and in a place—that I’ve never let anyone else go.
He begins to move down toward my ass and—
“Holy shit, you are one hairy motherfucker.”
Yeah, that’s what I figured. I lower my legs and shift away from him, explaining, “I’mEaraqiandEarabi, Anders. And there’s no way in hell I’m waxing, which is why nobody goes down there.”
He pushes my legs apart and crawls up my body, caging me with his strong arms and curtain of sunshine-infused hair. Staring down at me, he asks, “What part of that sounded like a complaint to you?”
“I—” I stumble at the sight of his twinkling, bemused eyes.
“When I was in the Persian Gulf, do you think I was celibate? Or that I kept it to just the American sailors and soldiers? I mean…do I look like I have that kind of self-control?”
I grumble, not liking that visual at all.
“Okay, then. Let me eat you out in peace,” he says, starting his way back down. He gets about halfway there and pauses, then tracks back. “Wait. Are you telling me you’ve never been properly rimmed?”
My cheeks heat as I drag my hands through my hair. “Um…no?”
I can’t tell if I’m embarrassed or turned on by that self-satisfied smirk on his face.
He slithers the rest of the way down, giving my cock a quick deep-throat hello before putting my legs over his shoulders again. Wasting no time, he spreads my cheeks with both hands and practically dives at my hole.
Oh…fuuuuuck.
“Tilhas bekh-shi!” I cry out, gripping my cock to prevent myself from coming with the first lick.
Anders smiling against different parts of my anatomy is a new addendum to my list of favorite things about him. “Iamlicking your asshole, you bossy fuck.”
I laugh as he sucks and spits and licks at the—son of a—sensitive skin of my hole, and it’s another level of pleasure entirely. He takes his time, using his tongue in all sorts of inventive and erotic ways—licking, swirling, thrusting. I find myself at the crossroads of boneless and ready to blow, wishing to stay there forever.
I make a sorrowful sound when he pulls away but am saved by the telltale snick of a bottle of lube being opened.
Bastard didn’t even ask me where I kept it.
