I brought my hand down on his ass again, over and over, the sound of the smacks echoing through the room. My palm warmed, with a tingle to it from the impact, and his ass bloomed redder with every spank. God, if we kept this up, I might come from spanking him alone. I was fucking dying, the need to nut so intense I could barely focus.
Yet Rory spread over my lap was the most transfixing sight. His dark strands a mess, his breaths heavy, those gorgeous cheeks on perfect display. The thought of spreading them open and sinking into his hole…fuck, bliss radiated through me. What would he taste like?
All of this was new territory, but it sparked my veins to life in a way I’d thought was impossible. As if life was still fresh and full of promise.
I rained another blow down, and his back arched as he let out a long, low moan. I caressed the hot cheek, savoring the plush, warm feel of it, the redness blooming on his skin.
“Fuck, I need you now,” Rory begged. “Please, fuck me.”
I caressed his other cheek, heat pulsing through me from his words. Yeah, no way in hell could I turn down that invitation.
“Palms on the table, ass out,” I said, speaking my fantasies to life.
We quickly barreled toward the point of no return, but I wouldn’t step back even if I could.
Chapter thirteen
Rory
Wyatt cleared away the plates, putting them back on the kitchen counter by the stove, and I tugged two packets from my pocket. I carried them on me most times, but I’d been extra hopeful tonight. And it looked like my wish would be granted.
“Condom and lube on the table,” I said. “Gotta keep your piercing wrapped for the foreseeable future to minimize risk.” My pants were still at my thighs, my ass bared and pulsing with heat from the blows he’d landed. I’d never been spanked before, but holy damn, new kink unlocked.
I wanted him to bend me over his lap every damn day.
Those callused, rough hands were straight out of my fantasies, and the feel of him looming over me, of the sting transmuting to pleasure with each blow—fuck yes. God, how would getting fucked while my cheeks burned like this be? And damn, I’d never been railed by a guy with a Prince Albert piercing. Excitement mounted in me with every breath.
I spread my palms on the smooth wooden surface of the table, sturdy enough to hopefully withstand Wyatt fucking me within an inch of my life, and then I thrust my ass out.
The creak of footsteps behind me signaled his approach, and I glanced back. Except, instead of unzipping his jeans, he knelt behind me and palmed my cheeks again. Oh god, why did his touch feel so damn good? Wyatt spread me so my hole was bared, and his breath puffed against the sensitive skin. My cock was hard and dripping from being spanked, and damn, he had me so unbelievably turned on.
“Can I taste you here?” he asked, his breath puffing against my hole.
I swallowed hard. What sort of straight boy offered to rim me? I sure as fuck wouldn’t turn him down, though. I’d scrambled to shower and change after work before heading here, and I’d cleaned myself thoroughly on the off chance we’d fuck. “Fuck yes.”
Wyatt gripped my cheeks tight, the slight sting of his calluses against my warmed cheeks sending a bolt of endorphins through me. Then his tongue descended on my hole. I choked on air. Bliss coursed through my veins with a ferocious swell, and I basked in the heightened sensation. Everything with Wyatt was just…more. I wasn’t sure if it was due to the build-up of having to wait or if something about him had burrowed beneath my skin, but he was so different from the countless hookups I’d entertained over the years.
I wasn’t sure if that fact terrified or thrilled me.
Wyatt lapped at me with an exploratory focus, his tongue hot, his mouth eager. His whiskers scratched at the tender skin of my ass, and fuck, even the slight bite of pain sent a thrill through me. Pre-cum dribbled onto the floor from my weeping cock, and I braced myself against the table, even though the lust coursing through me was strong enough that my legs trembled.
I couldn’t fathom how a “straight” guy could eat ass like this, but hell, I was going to enjoy every damn second. My hips shifted on automatic until I all but rode his face. His grip on my cheeks didn’t falter, and he thrust his tongue into my hole. Fuuuuuck. That felt too damn good. If he kept rimming me like this, I wouldn’t last. I rocked against his face, savoring the lushness of his mouth, how his grip on my stinging cheeks sent flicker-flares through me. The moans poured from me, louder and louder with every passing second.
Wyatt squeezed one cheek hard, and I gasped. He then pulled back, much to my dismay. “You’re so fucking tasty, baby. If I keep doing this, I’m going to unload in my jeans.”
The “baby” sent an undeniable zing through me. I’d collected my fair share of endearments from guys in the heat of the moment, but I didn’t date. This felt…personal, intimate in a way I wasn’t used to.
Except I liked it far more than I’d admit.
“Then fuck me,” I said, summoning my nerves.
With a light grunt, Wyatt pushed off from the floor and then the shink of a zipper sounded behind me. I glanced back just as his hand wrapped around his perfect cock. The heft of it, the piercing at the base glinting under the light of his kitchen—damn, I was so mesmerized.
He ripped open the condom and slid it on, then snagged the packet of lube and drizzled some over my hole, slathering the rest on his cock.
Anticipation flooded me in a staggering sweep, and I hadn’t even realized I’d been holding my breath the whole time.
“Fuck,” Wyatt said, his hand circled around his base as he stared at my ass. His gaze slipped to mine, and the heat blooming there sent a shiver through me.
