“Fuck,” he gasped, hips rocking harder against me. “I love the way you just…say shit. Please write me a song titled ‘Eating Your Ass While We Wait for Dick Drugs.’”
I burst into laughter as I rolled him onto his back and slipped between his legs. My own folded neatly beneath me, a little numb, but my nerve pain was mild. Staring down at him, I realized I wasn’t sure I could get sick of looking at him.
Not ever.
That was rare for me. I often craved hours upon hours where I didn’t have to look another person in the eye, but with Ryan, it was easy. And maybe this was just the honeymoon phase talking—if that’s what this was—but I couldn’t imagine a world in which I wasn’t obsessed with him.
“Get undressed for me,” I said.
He obeyed, yanking his boxers off and exposing himself entirely. Fuck, I loved the lines of his body—soft in places, sharp in others.
“What are you thinking?” he asked. A flush crept up his neck.
I reached out and traced the edge of where his skin was heating, then down to his right nipple. He groaned loudly and arched into my fingers. “That I love how responsive you are. And…” I hesitated, but fuck it. Fuck it entirely. “…how I feel like I’ll never get tired of this.”
He swallowed hard as I passed my fingers up his throat. “Me too.”
I wasn’t going to ask him to elaborate. I wanted to get through the next few days. To deal with the anniversary of my life changing and a new year beginning. Then, before he left, we would figure it out.
Whatever he was thinking, I knew I wasn’t going to give this up without some kind of fight.
Pushing his legs up, he sucked in a breath as I exposed him to the room. His muscles were trembling, and I knew it wasn’t fear. It wasn’t cold. It was the anticipation of my touch—of the pleasure I could bring him.
I leaned in and took his balls into my mouth, one by one, rolling them along my tongue before letting them drop, heavy and warm. Gripping his dick, I began to stroke him slowly, not nearly enough pressure, just enough to torment him as I kissed his perineum, then lower. Then lower.
Stretching my free hand up between his legs, I felt his abs jump under my palm as I scratched down his muscles.
“Oh god, oh please,” he said, his voice a strained whisper.
“Love the way you beg me. You’re so good at it.” I was unused to giving praise the way he did, but the way he groaned when I did, I realized that maybe he needed it just as much as I did. “You’re so good at everything, Ryan.”
“I—oh.” His words ended on a soft, moaning sigh as I put my mouth where he wanted me.
His hole fluttered beneath my tongue, tensing and relaxing, tensing and relaxing. I licked around him, then gently rolled my tongue over the muscle before pressing the tip inside. He let out another moan, louder this time, his hips shifting restlessly against the mattress as he fought himself not to take more than I was offering.
I pulled away and tested the weight of the words on my tongue before I said them. “Such a fucking good boy.”
“Shit, shit,” he gasped. Yeah, he liked that just as much too. Maybe not as often as me, but sometimes. And I was okay with that.
His thighs were shaking now, and he gripped them tightly to steady himself as he pulled them closer to his chest. I let his dick go and palmed the globes of his ass, spreading him wider as I gave in and devoured him. I shoved my tongue deep inside him and urged him to fuck my face. He did, his moans closer to sobs as his hips moved, taking what I was offering but knowing it wasn’t enough.
I could already feel myself getting hard—not hard enough. Not yet. But the warmth in my belly was spreading downward, and the pressure of the mattress beneath me was a delicious tease. God, I couldn’t wait to fuck him. I couldn’t wait to sit against the headboard and have him ride me into oblivion.
My dick twitched, and I thrust my tongue in him deeper, harder, feeling his entire body on a knife’s edge, desperate to come but unable to get there.
“I need,” he said, his head shaking back and forth. “Atlas, I need…I need more.”
“I know.” I kissed his hole, then dragged my lips upward along his thighs, over his painfully hard shaft, over the head, which was leaking like a fountain over his stomach. “Just a few more minutes. You can be patient for me, right?”
His eyes were hazy as he stared at me. “I can be anything for you. Anything you want.” He licked his lips. “Anything you need.”
I had to close my eyes against those words. I wanted to hear them now, but I needed to hear them when we weren’t doing this. When he wasn’t fueled by lust and desperation.
“I want to watch you finger yourself open for me,” I told him, reaching for the nightstand and grabbing the bottle of lube. It was getting low, and I wondered if he’d be embarrassed to go shopping with me for more.
I doubted it.
I took his hand and coated his fingers, then sat back on my tingling legs to watch his fingers search, then find what they were looking for. He groaned loudly when he slipped his first finger inside, and I looked down at my dick, which was now almost fully hard.
