“Taking what’s mine,” I say and then kiss him again before he can say anything else.
He moans, eyes closing, his tongue sliding in to stroke at the core of me. My hand sneaks between us, searching for him. I want to feel him against my palm.
“Jesus fuck, Spence!” Ken barks out, clambering out of the way of my hand. “The hell are you doing?”
“What?”
“What?You just put your hand on my dick!”
Why’s he saying that like I don’t know what I did? I didn’t do it by accident. “Yeah, and?”
“Why?”
“Do you want me to stop?”
“I—that’s not it. I just don’t understand.”
It’s really pretty simple. “I want to see it.”
“Seewhat?” His eyes widen. “My dick? Spence, you’ve seen my dick before.”
“Not hard.” Not aching and wanting. When he touches himself, he thinks of me. And that makes it mine. I have every right to see it.
“Because you’re not interested in that.You’restill fucking soft, Spence. It doesn’t arouse you, why the hell would you want to see it? I’m not some animal in a zoo for you to gawk at.”
“Let me see.” This has nothing to do with my dick, it has to do with his. “Please. I want to, I promise.”
Kendrick lets out a shaky breath and then leans back. He lifts a knee, pressing it against the back of the couch, his other leg draped over the side. Spread out for me, giving me a good view. Perfect.
He unzips his pants, and my breath hitches in anticipation, unable to look away from his strong hands, veins running over the back of them. He’s going to do it. For me. Because I asked him to. What wouldn’t he do for me if I asked?
Nothing.
The truth of the answer’s heady, feeding the monster living in my chest. No one else in the world will ever get what he gives me. Not even if theyask or plead with him. They aren’t me, and they don’t matter.
All that matters are the two of us.
His thick, hard cock has prominent veins, and it veers to the right just a little. He’s cut, and his head looks swollen and achy. His hand wrapped around it is the most obscene thing I’ve ever seen, and I want more. Want to see him get himself off. I want to see his face as he loses himself in pleasure, the same way Greer looked when Six was fucking him.
When Kendrick comes, he’ll be thinking of me, and I’m going to watch every second of it.
“Stroke yourself.”
Kendrick makes a choking noise, and my gaze flits up to his. His lips are parted, breath coming heavy, eyes darkened. He’s unbelievably sexy.
He starts slowly, the head of his cock disappearing underneath his palm before reappearing when he slides down.Damn, that’s good.
“Faster.”
“Are you trying to kill me?” Kendrick asks hoarsely.
I might have been amused by that if I wasn’t so entranced by him. “No, I need you alive. Don’t stop.”
He bites his lip and fists his cock rapidly. He looks incredible, blissed out and lost in it. So much wasted time that I could have been enjoying this. Why didn’t hesaysomething?
“Take your shirt off.” He’s not naked enough. I can’t see his muscles moving, the strain as he brings himself closer to completion. I never thought that the act of jerking off could be so erotic. It’s always quick and dirty whenever I’ve done it in the past. Nothing particularly spectacular and not something I think about or get the urge to do all that often.
He’s not undressing quick enough, so I help him, popping out the buttons and shoving the shirt off his shoulders. Awkwardly—I can acknowledge I’m only hindering his movements—the shirt is discarded on the floor, and his magnificent chest is on display for me. All hard lines and sculpted muscles that I love to look at.
