“Your mind.”
“Yours.”
His entire body went slack, even as I pinched and twisted the tender parts of him. In his briefs, Golden’s cock spasmed, fighting for release. How could this perfect man exist and how could he finally be mine?
I’d played with dozens of men, and I’d fucked more than that, but I’d never met a masochist as pure as Foster Golden. Even the idea of pain was enough to get him hard, and the way he turned compliant and soft for it was enough to send me into another stratosphere, often leaving me dizzy with want.
“Your heart?” I released his nipples and he grimaced, mouth falling into a silent expression of agony that had my own cock throbbing beneath him.
“I love you.” The words left his mouth, barely a whisper, but they were meant for me so I seized them. I pulled him down to me, pressing our lips together before he’d even had a chance to close his mouth. He moaned, turning to jelly, letting my tongue map the topography of his teeth as I licked the admission out of him for a second time.
“I love you, but you’re going to be the death of me,” he whispered against me, and I kissed him harder.
I broke away from him for air, sucking in a breath that had me feeling revitalized and ready to take on the world. I wanted to figure out who was pulling the strings on the hit out on me, I wanted to know who shot at Golden and kill them, and I wanted to find out who’d come after his doctor friend. I wanted to take on the whole fucking world and win.
And then Golden sighed, a trembling little noise on my lap as he bucked his hips toward me, silently asking for friction, for pain.
For pleasure.
“You’re going to get me killed,” I muttered, pulling down the waistband of his briefs to expose his erection. “But it’ll be worth it.”
Golden’s expression was frenzied, his pupils shot, and his cheeks crimson. I made quick work of the throbbing cock that protruded toward me, jerking him off until he spurted his release against my fingers and his stomach, and then I didn’t stop.
He squirmed and whined, and I collared his throat with my free hand, not changing my pace or my hold on his cock. He fought against me and my balls churned, nearing their own end. I shifted forward, dumping Golden onto the coffee table with a loud crack. His mug toppled over, coffee pouring onto the floor. I braced myself over him, still working his dick with quick and rough jerks of my wrist.
“Sage,” he groaned, squirming. His head fell over the side of the table and I wondered how high he would get with all that blood rushing to his brain. I didn’t relent, working that hard and tender piece of him until he came a second time. His offering was a little bit less, but his body, his words…they were so much more.
He came a second time with every muscle, every joint and nerve in his body. He arched off the table and landed back against it so hard I heard the wood splinter beneath him. I crawled on top of him, hoping it would hold, and I scooped his cum off his belly with my fingers, then shoved them into his mouth.
I reached as far back as I could reach until the tips of my fingers grazed the back of his throat. Golden gagged and bucked against me, and I fucked his cum into his mouth until he jerked like he was going to throw up.
With a fist in his hair and my fingers still deep inside of him, I hauled him into a sitting position. His face was cherry red, tear-slicked, and covered in spit. He looked perfect. He looked like he belonged to me. I needed him. More of him. All of him.
I stood, pulling him off the table and onto his knees. I buried his face against my groin, rubbing my hard cock across his cheek.
“Please,” he rasped, words choked and scratchy.
I shoved down the waistband of my sleep pants and my cock sprang free, only to be quickly swallowed into that perfect fucking mouth of his.
Groaning, I cradled his head in my hands, offering him the only hint of gentleness he would get from me, and I skull fucked him until he cried out for mercy. The muscles of his throat hugged the head of my cock, and I came, hot jets of cum shooting into him. Golden gagged, his entire body fighting for air, the convulsions only serving to draw more cum out of me.
I didn’t stop, fucking against his tongue until it hurt, and only then did I settle, leaving my softening dick inside his mouth. Golden moaned, going slack against me and sucking the hot piece of my body still inside of him. My knees gave out and I collapsed onto the couch with a deep exhale. Golden settled on the ground, on his knees. The rough stubble of his cheek abraded the inside of my thigh and he closed his eyes, lips still sealed around my cock.
I petted his hair out of his face and the lines around his eyes softened.
Yeah. Foster Golden was definitely going to get me killed, but I couldn’t think of a better way to go.
Chapter Twenty-One
Foster
Ipadded into Sage’s living room, a towel wrapped around my waist and wet hair plastered against my forehead. He sat at his small dining room table, my Ruger in pieces in front of him, a cleaning rag in his hand and a can of oil beside him.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
He didn’t look up. “Go get dressed, Golden. We have to talk and I can’t talk when I want to fuck you into the ground.”
“You want to put me in the ground,” I mumbled, turning and heading back to his bedroom. I rifled through his dresser drawers, uncovering condoms, lube, sex toys, and more guns before finally finding a pair of gym shorts and an undershirt.
