He lets me run my palms over his back a few times, then makes an impatient noise and reaches behind him so he can yank his shirt off.
The garment has barely left his hands when he grabs handfuls of my shirt and gives the material a rough tug.
Leaning forward, I lift my arms so he can pull my shirt off, then gently hold him in place when he moves in to kiss me again.
“I want to look at you,” I tell him, tracing my eyes over his chest and stomach.
He sits back on my thighs, a cocky smirk on his handsome face as I drink him in.
Damon has an incredible body. He’s tight and toned and lean, but not overly muscular, and my eye is drawn to the large black and white phoenix tattoo on his chest. The body of it runs down the center of his pecs, and the wings spread out over his chest and the front of his shoulders, while the long tail swirls down toward his belly button. The tattoo is gorgeous, with some of the most intricate detailing I’ve ever seen, and the shading makes it look alive, like it's about to take flight. He doesn’t have any other ink that I can see, but I know he has at least one back piece, thanks to the glimpses I’ve gotten of it over the years, and before I can stop myself, I trail my gaze down his tattoo and over his smooth stomach to his crotch.
He's as hard as I am, and my mouth waters at the thought of finally getting to see him—and taste him.
“Like what you see?” he asks, his tone teasing and light.
“Fuck yeah.” I run my palms up his stomach and over his pecs.
He shivers when my fingers brush his nipples, and I gently tweak them.
“Shit,” he mutters, arching into my touch.
“You like that?” I ask, even though it’s clear he does.
He nods. “Never knew they were so sensitive, but yeah. I like that.”
Grinning, I slide my hands around to his back and tug him closer as I lean in so I can close my mouth around one of his nipples.
He groans and cards one hand in my hair, holding me against him as I tease and toy with the little peak with my tongue and teeth while using my fingers to pinch and tweak the other.
“Fuck, Xave,” he breathes, and the sound of my name in that sex-drenched voice makes my balls throb.
Greedily, I move to the other nipple, giving it the same attention as the first, and drink in his pleasure sounds as he squirms in my lap.
When I lift my mouth from his chest, he yanks on my hair, pulling my head back so he can cover my lips with his and give me another deep, drugging kiss.
“I thought you weren’t into guys,” he murmurs between kisses.
“I’m not,” I tell him, squeezing his hard muscles as I run my hands over his back and ass.
He pulls back and gives me a confused look.
His cheeks are flushed soft pink, and his lips are red and kiss-swollen. His hair is already a tangled mess, and his eyes are wide and a bit glassy.
More heat curls through me, mixing with pride as I take in his wrecked appearance.
“I don’t understand,” he says, his gaze flicking between my eyes and my mouth.
“I’m not into guys,” I tell him truthfully. “I’m only into you.”
His eyes widen. “Really?”
I nod. “I don’t understand it, but whatever. It is what it is, and I’m not about to let something as dumb as me thinking I’m straight fuck with my head. I want you. I’m wickedly attracted to you, so that’s all I need to know.”
He huffs out a laugh, but it quickly morphs into a moan when I squeeze the full globes of his ass and rock him against my cock. “It took me years to come to terms with being bi, and you accepted it in a few months.”
“More like a few days.” I squeeze his ass again. “That night, after we were back at our hotel. I thought about you when I jerked off in the shower.”
The flush on his cheeks deepens, and a little smile tilts the corners of his lips. “You did?”
