“I will,” he promised, pulling me close, mouth hot and desperate, voice shaking. “I already do.”
I pulled back just enough to look at him, really look at him—flushed, pupils blown wide, chest heaving, cock thick and heavy beneath his underwear, the fabric darkened with want. My mouth watered.
“Stay still,” I told him, voice low and rough, and slid down his body, slow and deliberate, letting my nose drag over his stomach, through the trail of hair leading down. I pressed my face there and inhaled deep, shameless, greedy.
“Fuck,” I muttered. “You smell unreal.”
He let out a broken laugh that turned into a moan when I rubbed my cheek against his cock through the fabric, nuzzling it, breathing him in like I’d been starved of air and this was the first real breath I’d taken in months. I mouthed at it, kissed it through the cotton, then flicked my tongue out, licking a slow stripe right over the head.
Michael swore, hips jerking. “Daniel?—”
I grinned against him. “This what you’ve been hiding from me?” I dragged my tongue along the length again, slow and teasing, savoring the way he twitched, the way his breath hitched every time my mouth got close. “All thick and hard and desperate. You’ve got no idea how long I’ve wanted this.”
I hooked my fingers into the waistband of his underwear and tugged it down just enough to free him. His cock sprangup, heavy and flushed, leaking at the tip. Thick. Hot. Perfect. I leaned in, nose brushing along the length, inhaling again, then opened my mouth and licked him from base to tip, slow and reverent.
He groaned, hands fisting in the sheets. “You’re killing me.”
“That’s the point.” I wrapped my hand around him, squeezing gently, then leaned down and took the head into my mouth, lips stretching around him, tongue swirling, tasting every bit of him. I pulled back, let spit slick him up, then kissed him again, open-mouthed and messy, letting him see how wrecked I already was.
I pushed his underwear all the way down, baring him completely, and took my time. I kissed down his shaft, over his balls, inhaling the thick, musky scent there, loving the soft weight of them against my mouth. I sucked one into my mouth, then the other, tongue working slow and filthy, earning a strangled sound from his throat.
“You like that?” I asked, voice rough, glancing up at him. “Like the way I can’t get enough of you? Like knowing I’m down here losing my mind over your cock?”
“Yes,” he gasped. “I like knowing you want me like this.”
I grinned and went lower, licking a slow path between his legs, through the thick hair there, savoring the texture, the scent. His hole was already peeking, pink and tight and framed by dark curls, and something hot and possessive curled in my chest at the sight.
“Fuck,” I breathed. “You’re beautiful like this. Hairy and open and shaking for me.”
I pressed a kiss right to his hole, then another, then dragged my tongue over it, slow and teasing, loving the way his whole body jolted. I licked him again, firmer this time, tongue flattening, tasting him, then circled the rim, spit slicking him up.
“Daniel,” he moaned, voice wrecked. “Please?—”
I chuckled, low and dark. “I’m gonna take my time. I wanna taste all of you. Wanna hear every sound you make when I touch you like this.”
I sucked gently, then harder, tongue working him open, hands gripping his thighs to hold him steady. He writhed beneath me, cock leaking, hips twitching, every nerve ending lit up and raw.
“You feel that?” I murmured against him. “That’s me. Remember this. Remember how I tasted you. Remember how much I wanted you.”
I kept going, tongue fucking him slow and deep, savoring every twitch and gasp, every shudder that ran through Michael’s body. His thighs shook in my grip, cock leaking against his stomach, his hole clenching around my tongue like it never wanted to let me go.
I pulled back just enough to press a hot, open-mouthed kiss to the soft hair there, nosing in deep, breathing him in. I let my tongue linger, licking him open, teasing, not letting up until he was begging, hips rolling, hands clawing at the sheets.
I pressed one last filthy kiss to his hole, then slid up his body, mouth and chin slick, and caught his lips in a rough, hungry kiss. He tasted himself on my tongue and moaned, letting me take everything—his breath, his want, his need.
I didn’t let him recover. I straddled his chest, knees pressing into the mattress on either side of him, my thick cock heavy and leaking against his collarbone. His eyes went wide, lips parted, hungry.
I fisted his hair, tugging his head back, guiding his face to my crotch. “Open up,” I growled, voice thick with command. “I want to see you worship me. Want you to show me how bad you’ve been needing this.”
He obeyed instantly, mouth opening, tongue out, eyes locked on mine as I ground my cock against his lips, smearing precomealong the seam, marking him. I rocked my hips forward, teasing him, letting the weight and heat of me rest against his face.
“Look at you,” I rasped, staring down at him, loving the way he stared up, completely undone. “You ever want anything this bad? Ever want someone to lose it over you like I do?”
He shook his head, mouth still open, voice gone wrecked. “No. Never. Please, Daniel—let me taste you.”
I grinned, slow and dangerous, then hooked my thumbs in my waistband, dragging my underwear down over my thighs and tossing them aside. My cock sprang free, flushed and heavy, a bead of slick already gathering at the tip.
I slapped it against his cheek, watched the way his eyes fluttered, the way he tried to chase it with his tongue. Then I pressed the head to his lips, felt the heat of his breath, and slid in—slow at first, savoring the stretch of his mouth, the way he took me, eager and greedy.
