Wes’s tongue licks a slow, wet circle around my head, then glides down my length, over and over again, until my dick is glistening and my patience has run out.
“I need to come,” I grind out.
He chuckles softly. “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll get you there.”
And holy shit, he does. The teasing licks turn into wet, tight pulls on my shaft that make me shudder in pleasure. His hand kneads my balls while his mouth draws me all the way to the back of his throat, sucking hard and fast until I'm ready to explode. Until Idoexplode.
Wes growls when I come in his mouth, but he doesn’t stop sucking until I’m limp and mindless. As the aftershocks of the orgasm continue to flutter through my sated body, I vaguelyregister that he’s beside me now. Kissing my neck. Stroking my abs. Nuzzling my beard with his cheek.
“Fucking love this beard,” he whispers.
“Fucking loveyou,” I whisper back. I somehow find the energy to lift one arm and wrap it around his big shoulders, holding him closer to me. His erection is like a hot brand against my thigh, and when I turn my head to kiss him, he moans into my mouth and rubs that hard length against me. So I run the back of my knuckles down his shaft and he hisses.
“What do you want?” I ask between kisses. “There’s no lube in this room.”
Wes grunts and flexes his hips against me. “We don’t need lube. I want your mouth on me.”
I shift a little higher on the pillow. “Get up here, then. Show the beard who’s boss.”
With a growl, he grabs the other pillow and shoves it behind my head. Then he swings a knee over my chest and crawls up my body.
My palm lands on his abs, and I spread my fingers wide. He feels so good under my hand—warm and solid. I’m tired of spending the night alone. I like the resistance of another body in the bed. When he’s gone, I miss being able to roll over and park my ass against his sleepy warmth.
But he’s not sleepy now. He spreads his big legs wide, and I grab his ass and tug him closer. His cock is rigid and leaking for me. And coming nearer. To tease him I clamp my mouth closed and he lets out an impatient noise. Grabbing his dick, I sweep the head of it across my lips, tickling the underside with the beard on my chin.
Above me, Wes gives a horny shiver. There’s just enough light coming through those curtains to show me that the tats all over his arms look like shadows when he moves. The masculinescent of him is starting to drive me a little crazy. I stick out my tongue and taste him, and he gasps with anticipation.
My torture isn’t quite done, though. I crane my neck forward, smash my face against his groin and nip his pubes. I swear he’s practically grinding his dick against my neck now, so turned on he’d fuck any surface of my body. A desperate Wes is a fun Wes. I love forcing him to let go of some of that iron-clad control. One sportswriter called him: “Impenetrable. Unshakeable. With nerves of steel.”
I know better.
Trapping his eager dick with my hand, I slowly roll my neck, rubbing every surface of his shaft with my beard.
“Fucking hell,” he jabbers. “Killing me. Just suck it already.”
I kiss him once on the tip and he groans. Then, all at once, I put him out of his misery. Opening wide, I swallow him down. He gives a less-than-manly cry that makes me smile around his cock. So I pull off and then give him another good, hard suck. I am merciless now. There’s no rhythm, just ambition. Sucking, licking, swallowing. He thrusts haphazardly, just enjoying the ride. And it’s only a couple of minutes later when he takes a deep breath and says, “Here I fucking come.”
And the man isn’t lying. He pumps into my mouth more times than I can count, and I swallow a week’s worth of sexual tension. Then my head flops back against the pillows, and I feel the exhaustion creep in again. Above me, Wes drops his head, and I watch his chest heave as he gulps down oxygen. Lifting both hands, I spread my fingers across his ribcage. “You look thinner,” I say, my thumb sweeping the smooth skin of his chest.
“I’m down fifteen pounds since the season started.”
“Fifteen?”I know players sometimes lose a little weight. But fifteen?
“Yeah. It happens.”
I pull him down, and he has to roll off me so we can hold each other. “That’s too much to lose,” I murmur in his ear. “More enchiladas for you.”
“You make it, I’ll eat it.” He buries his face in my neck. “Jamie?”
“Mmm?”
“I think there’s jizz in your beard.”
“Gross.”
He laughs. “Is that gonna be an issue?”
“Dunno. It’s my first beard, and you’re the first one to splooge in it.”
