“Hold on.”
I tilt my head, not sure exactly what I’m holding onfor, when he reaches for my headband. Of course. He pulls it out and sets it back in place, the scrape against my scalp like a warning not to touch, clearing the hair I like to hide behind. I feel exposed without it, but when Kennedy’s gaze settles on my features, it’s filled with hunger.
“How am I supposed to look at that face and behave myself?”
My smile feels wicked as I curl my fingers into the sides of his jeans. “You don’t.”
His intense gaze is studying mine, like he’s trying to convince himself to hold back.
If he thinks I’m going to help him with that, he doesn’t know me at all. I tilt my face to his ear. “Show me what I do to you.”
Kennedy drops to his knees, tearing at the front of my jeans. I’m not expecting it, but I’m also not about to complain when he rips my fly open and tugs my boxer briefs down below my balls. His appreciative exhale is cool against my aching dick. Then his mouth is there. Warm, wet suction closes over my tip, and I have to ball my hands into fists and shove one of them between my teeth to stop from coming. The pain I’m biting into my knuckles helps me fight it, but every inch Kennedy takes is testing me. His tongue is working some kind of magic, and while this is the second time my dick has been in his mouth, the first was nothing like this.
I’m not even sure that could be considered a blow job with how quickly it ended.
This time I’m determined to last.
Even if every one of my muscles is straining.
Even if my teeth have broken skin.
Even if his fingers brushing my balls make me forget how to breathe.
The warm stroke of his tongue, the light scrape of his facial hair, the way he hums around me like he’s as turned on as I am.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
I tug his hair, and Kennedy pulls off, looking at me through lust-drenched eyes. “What is it?”
“I’m … about to …”
“You don’t want it to be over yet?”
I quickly shake my head, because how the hell do I vocalize something like that?
He ducks down and drags his flattened tongue over my balls. “You taste so damn good though.”
He’s going to kill me.
“I want to taste every inch of you, Ziggy.”
Actually, scratch that. At this point, I’m convinced I’m already dead.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-FOUR
KENNEDY
Ithink I was made to be on my knees for him. The way he’s standing over me is hot as hell. He’s thin, very lightly muscled, piercings glinting on his face and at the head of his dick, and all I want is to feel it rubbing against my tonsils again.
His dark eyes are watching me, not bothering to hold back the need he feels, and I know for a fact that he’s choosing to show me since Ziggy has no problem closing off when he wants to.
He wants me to know how much I turn him on, like I want him to know he does the same to me. Not only is he hot, smart, interesting, with a dick I could suck all day, but the fact that no one else has ever touched him is a massive turn-on.
I’m not a possessive guy. I might come on too strong in relationships, but it’s never in an ownership way. I’m getting a thrill of excitement from exploring parts of him that no one has ever seen before.
With a huff, I push to my feet, shed my restrictive jeans, and kick my briefs off after them. His gaze drinks me in like he never wants to stop looking, and fuck me, I feel the same.
