THE TWO SIMPLE WORDS send electricity racing down my spine, pooling low in my belly, making my already hard cock twitch against the thin fabric of my shorts. I’ve never been claimed before, or wanted with such raw, possessive hunger. The realization should terrify me. Instead, it unleashes something I’ve kept locked away so deep I never knew it existed until this moment.
Slade releases my wrist. “Go to the bed. Lie down on your back.”
My body responds before my mind can process the words. I stand on unsteady legs, the movement causing my shorts to rub against my erection. The friction pulls a gasp from my lips. I take the three steps to my bed in a trance, my skin humming with anticipation, every nerve ending alive and singing.
I lie back against the crisp white sheets. The reality of what’s happening crashes over me in waves. Twenty-four hours ago, I was preparing for a weekend of awkward social interactions with my ex. Now I’m lying on a hotel bed, the taste of another man’s release coating my tongue, waiting for whatever comes next with an eagerness that should shock me. But it doesn’t.
Slade moves to the foot of the bed, his gaze traveling up my body. His cock is exposed, half-hard and glistening. The sight of it—of what I did to him, what he did to my mouth—sends another surge of heat through me.
“Lift your hips,” he commands.
I comply, raising my hips off the mattress. Slade hooks his fingers into the waistband of my shorts, then pauses, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. He begins to pull them down with excruciating slowness, revealing my skin inch by torturous inch. The fabric drags over my aching cock, and I have to bite my lip to keep from whimpering.
“Please,” I whisper, not even sure what I’m begging for. More speed, more touch, more of whatever he’s willing to give me.
Slade continues his deliberate pace, eyes fixed on each new revelation of skin. “Patience,” he murmurs.
By the time he works my shorts past my knees and off my feet, I’m trembling. The cool air of the room washes over my naked body, raising goosebumps across my skin. My cock lies against my stomach, harder than I’ve ever been in my life, the head wet with pre-cum.
“Look at you,” Slade says, his voice tinged with wonder. “So responsive. So eager.”
The flush that’s been present on my face since he entered the room spreads down my chest. I should feel vulnerable, lying naked while he’s still mostly clothed. Instead, I feel seen. Desired in a way that makes my blood sing.
Slade strips off his shirt, revealing the broad chest and defined abs I glimpsed at the waterfall. His body is a study instrength and precision—not sculpted like a bodybuilder’s, but powerful and functional.
He kneels at the foot of the bed, then crawls up between my legs. The mattress dips beneath his weight, and I spread my thighs wider to accommodate him. His eyes never leave mine as his hands come to rest on my inner thighs.
“I can smell how much you want this. How much you want me.”
“I do,” I admit, my voice barely above a whisper.
A feral smile spreads across his face. “Good boy.”
The praise sends another jolt of pleasure straight to my cock. A drop of pre-cum beads at the tip. Slade watches it with undisguised hunger.
He lowers his head, but instead of taking me into his mouth, he presses his lips to the inside of my right thigh. His beard scrapes against the sensitive skin. He trails kisses up my inner thigh, alternating between gentle brushes of his mouth and drags of his beard that leave the skin red and tingling.
“Fuck,” I gasp, my hands fisting in the sheets. “Slade, please.”
“Please what?” he asks, moving to my left thigh to repeat the torturous process.
“Make me come.”
He chuckles. “Not yet. I’m enjoying this too much.”
His mouth continues its journey, kissing and nipping at the tender flesh of my thighs. Each time he moves closer to where I need him most, only to veer away at the last moment. It’smaddening, exquisite torture. My hips buck, seeking contact that isn’t there.
One large hand splays across my stomach, pressing me back into the mattress. “Stay still,” he orders, and despite my desperation.
When I obey, he rewards me with a kiss that lands tantalizingly close to my groin. I’m grateful now for the thorough shower I took before he arrived, scrubbing every inch of my body with obsessive care. Somehow, I knew—or hoped—that this was where we’d end up. That he’d want to explore me in ways I’d let no one before.
Slade’s tongue traces a hot, wet path along the crease where thigh meets groin, and I can’t stop the moan that tears from my throat.
“I love the sounds you make,” he says, his breath ghosting over my aching cock. “So honest. So real.”
“Please,” I beg again, beyond pride or restraint. “I need—”
“I know what you need. And I’ll give it to you. But not yet.”
