He glanced up and met my eyes, his own dark and wet, as he slid himself down all the way, burying his nose in my groin and swallowing, his throat pressing in around the head of my cock, the vibrations of his purrs filling my whole body.
I threw my head back, squeezing my eyes shut—couldn’t look at him doing that, or I’d explode right then.
It didn’t matter. All I could picture in my mind’s eye was Dean on his knees in front of me, his lips wrapped around me, so beautiful that it almost hurt to look at him.
“I’m... I can’t...” I couldn’t even warn him properly that I was about to come, and he should—but no. If anything, heseemed to take my struggle as encouragement, and redoubled his efforts.
Electricity zinged through my whole body. I could barely breathe as I seized up, orgasm ripping out of me as I came down his throat, hot and hard. Instead of pulling off, sputtering that I hadn’t warned him, he wrapped his arms around the backs of my legs and pulled me in tighter, swallowing over and over as I jolted with the sensation.
When I let out a whimper and tapped his shoulder, overstimulated and ready to beg him to stop as soon as I could once again find words, he pulled back immediately. Like he could read my mind and knew what I needed.
He leaned away, still holding onto my legs and massaging the backs of my thighs with firm, smooth circles, but letting his head fall back so that he could squint up at me. A lazy smile played across his lips as he licked them, looking like the cat that got the cream.
Heh.
He lifted an eyebrow, so I bit my lip and shrugged. “Just thinking you look like the cat that got the cream.”
His smile went wicked, and he put my cock away and zipped my pants almost without looking at them. “I do love cream,” he said, his voice a low, sexy growl. Then he pushed up and motioned behind us. “In my coffee, too.”
Coffee.
Fuck me, I’d forgotten.
Trembling, I turned back to the coffee maker, which was finished. He stepped in close behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist, whispering into my ear. “Back out to the living room, then? I wanted to finish telling you about that book.”
Just like that. No quid pro quo. No pressure. No worries.
I could get used to this life.
CHAPTER 12
DEAN
It was two in the morning before I left Landon’s place.
I could’ve stayed. Landon said as much, and his heavy-lidded eyes said he’d like me to. Tempting as it was, I was?—
Well, I was worried that we were rushing things, both of us in need of a distraction and the assurance that we were there, with each other, in this. As much as I meant to be, I didn’t think the way to handle a relationship I meant to last was to demand every second out of him. Nice as it would be to slide into something serious, relationships were built over time, when both people kept showing up and putting in effort because they chose to, not because we’d refused to spend an hour apart.
So when Landon bit his lip and suggested that I stayed, I cupped his cheek and kissed his plump lips.
“Why don’t you text me in the morning and we’ll make plans for tomorrow night?”
He smiled up at me, his eyes twinkling, and I wondered if I was making a mistake.
But no, if I stayed, we’d fuck. Iwantedto fuck him. His high, trapped moans as I’d sucked his cock were all too tempting, but I wanted to see what happened when I worked my dick into him, spread him wide, and he stopped trying to control himself. Iwanted to watch his lips fall open, hear every cry as I licked and nibbled his neck while I sank into his tight ass.
He was just coming up for air from all that shit back in Boston, and I’d suck it out of him before he had a chance to catch his breath.
I was still figuring out how to manage my grief while also continuing to live, and the last thing I wanted was to use Landon to dull the edges of that loss.
We’d forge something new, and waiting a single night wouldn’t kill me. Fuck, if it would, we already had issues.
“You mean tonight?” Landon asked. He glanced significantly at the clock.
I snorted. “I guess I do. Seriously though, I’m free.”
Him standing there, biting his lip, was just about the hardest thing I’d ever had to walk away from. “Me too. I’ll text.”
