He raises a shoulder, worrying his bottom lip with his teeth. “The first several times, sure. But I’m tempted to train your nipples. They’re such a pale, pretty pink. Maybe I’ll play with you all day. Could get you started in the morning with some good quality lotion and just a few twists, then release you every hour or so, coming back with more suction each time.”
I shudder at his description, tightening my grip, speeding up my pace. “I could be convinced to do something like that with you. Question. What are your thoughts on ass play?”
He looks over at me, matching my smirk. “Ooh, I like a little ass play. What do you have in mind?”
“I’m just wondering if you’d let me tongue your hole. Maybe play with a little stimulator,” I say, crooking my finger. “Just a couple of button pushes to get you there.”
He rolls over to his side, facing me as the bag of frozen vegetables falls between us. I grab the bag and toss it to the floor. “I’m game,” he says, kissing me as he plays with my nipples.
“I’m close.” I can’t believe I finally get to do this with him. The thought of it spins up a bloom of pleasure in my body.
“Where do you want your load to go? On my chest? On my face? In my mouth?”
“Chest,” I say, pushing him down to straddle his waist, pinning his arms to his side, still stroking myself, hard and fast. He captures me with a burning gaze, and years of pent-up need races through my groin, building in pressure until I can’t hold back a second longer. “Oh fuck, coming.”
He snakes his hands out from their pinned position at his sides and reaches up, one hand gripping my balls while the other pinches a nipple. My body contracts, and I shoot hard, striping his chest with it. And maybe some of his chin.
Leaning in, I lick up the spattered cum then share it with him in a kiss. I wipe him down with my T-shirt, and he plunders my mouth, practically tongue-fucking me. He pulls away from the kiss and I’m lightheaded. Falling back onto his pillows, he takes off his cage then drags me down with him until I’m splayed across his strong chest. Our legs tangle as he pulls the duvet over us, and it’s the safest I’ve ever felt.
Distracting myself from the unexpected depth of emotion, I tease him. “So, yeah. That was a complete disappointment. We’re super incompatible, and I was just fooling myse—ahh!”
He interrupts my teasing by tickling my ribs and I let out a yelp.
“That’s a real manly screech you have there,” he says, grinning at me.
“I’m ticklish!”
His questing fingers find even more sensitive areas as I squirm against him. “Oh my god. Stop. You’re killing me!”
His hands smooth out, rubbing the delicate skin until I shiver.
“That was mean,” I say, putting on a little pout for him. “I was just trying to make the point that you’ve been wrong for years, and I was right, and that we should remember that for any future arguments.”
Running his fingers through my hair, he looks down on me, almost worshipfully. “You’re already planning our arguments?”
I roll my eyes. “Well yeah. Make-up sex is the best.”
He tightens his grip on me, his eyes glazed and happy. “But no arguing tonight. Just sleep.”
Oh god yes.
18
DeShaun
I’ve been up for a while, watching Odd sleep. He has to go to Houston tomorrow for a conference and then onto Bastrop for some recon. I’m already dreading his departure.
My knee is a touch past aching, but I don’t care. He’s still laid out across my chest, a bit of drool in the corners of his mouth. The blond scruff on his cheeks looks like splinters of diamonds in the morning sun and his sandy hair pulls red when the light hits it.
He’s got pale freckles across his shoulders, barely visible under all of the tattoos. I recognized Everett’s handiwork and my favorites are the newer tattoos that snake up onto his hands and fingers.
As I ruffle his hair, I discover a tattoo I’ve never noticed before. Most of his ink is dramatic, black-and-gray geometric patterns on his chest and arms, so this one stands out. My fingers tremble as I trace the fine details. It’s one of the few places on his skin that carries color: a faded, care-worn teddy bear with a ragged blue bow and a carefully stitched X where one of the eyes used to be. It’s on the left side of his rib cage, where his arm naturally falls. He inhales deeply, waking under my touch.
“I’m sorry,” I say, barely able to keep my voice steady. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”
He grins sleepily, hugging me as he pushes his face into my neck. “S’ok. I don’t mind.”
My fingers search out the tattoo again as if of their own will, tracing the delicate lines with my thick fingers. “What’s this, Odd?”
