I let my eyes feast first, roaming over his strong chest, to his lean, cut abdomen, those muscled arms, and the tanned, corded forearms that lead my wandering gaze down to the lines at his hips that showcase the absolute beast that’s clearly awoken.
In fact, I think it’s looking at me, its one eye is definitely trying to grab mine.
Challenge accepted.
“I want you to lie on your back and hold on tight, Boy Scout.”
“Fuck,” he breathes, but he damn near jogs past me, launching himself onto the bed and sprawling on his back.
Weston pats his lap, dick erect and so inviting, and I put a knee up on the mattress, ready to crawl to him for a night he’ll never forget.
“I was gonna say fuck me up, Grady, but I think you might actually break me with that kraken between your legs.”
“Wait!” It’s practically a shout from his lips, panic in his green eyes, and I reel back.
“I wasn’t looking for an out. I’ll heal.”
“No,” he breathes out heavily. “Just, need a wrapper.”
Putting my foot back on the ground, I stare at him. “Tell me you brought some. I don’t have any in Thor size.”
“I did, I did, in my pocket.” He thrusts an arm out, pointing to his pants crumpled on the ground.
I bend down to grab his wallet, when I consider how big his girth is compared to the rubbers I’m used to seeing. No way a normal one would fit around him, right?
“Where do you get your condoms, a tent store?”
Weston laughs, a rich, deep sound that fills the van and the crisp night air outside of it too.
“Seriously, you could probably use a fucking tarp to cover that thing and go camping under it,” I mutter, digging through his pants. His chuckle scrapes my nipples deliciously, and I pop back up, expensive-looking wallet in hand.
“Nah, not in there, darlin’. Side pocket.”
I put his designer wallet back and find that one of the side pockets of his cargo pants feels bulkier than the other. Opening the flap, an accordion of condoms pops out, an entire strip of massive rubbers falls to the floor.
“Such a Boy Scout,” I tease, holding up the length of them by one end. “So prepared.”
“Not taking any chances at missing a single round with you, darlin’.”
I toss the foils onto the bed and he rips one off and tears the top, peeling the protection out. My eyes follow every single roll of the material as he slides it over and down his thick cock, and I gulp at the sight of his fist following the latex.
“I could barely take two of your fingers. How the hell do we think this is going to work, anyway?”
West holds up his two fingers next to his dick, and my throat bobs at the way his cock dwarfs them. I’msoscrewed.
“Slowly,” he says with a filthy smirk. “Now hop on.”
He doesn’t have to tell me twice. I jump up and scuttle across the bed, throwing one leg over his midsection to straddle him, watching his gaze heat at the show, and then I’m backing down onto him.
As soon as I feel the pressure of his thick head at my entrance, my eyes shut and he groans.
Knees spread as wide as I can, I lower myself onto him just a fraction of an inch, feeling the stretch already. A whimper escapes me, his eyes flame as he feels my tightness around his crown.
“Holy fuck.” It sounds like a prayer coming from his lips.
I can’t wait to see what else he says, what he looks like when I’m the one making him come. This man, thoughts of our night together have consumed me so completely for weeks now it’s probably bordering on unhealthy, but I don’t care. I want to make the most of every single moment we have tonight.
Weston’s fingers dig into my hips sharply, like it’s taking restraint not to slam his hips up into me, and it steels me to push myself, lowering down a bit more, until I’m so full of him I feel stuck.
