But he didn't go where I expected. Instead, he moved up my body, trailing kisses and bites across my stomach, my chest, until his mouth was at my armpit.
I froze. “What are you?—”
“Just let me,” he muttered, and then his tongue was there, licking a broad stripe across the hollow of my armpit.
“Oh fuck.” The sensation shot straight to my cock. It shouldn't have been hot. Shouldn't have made me harder than I already was.
“You like that?” His voice was muffled against my skin.
“Yeah. Fuck, yeah.”
He did it again, slower this time, really tasting me. His tongue was broad and flat, lapping at the hollow like he was savoring every drop of sweat. His stubble scraped againstsensitive skin, making me shiver, making goosebumps break out across my chest.
Then he moved to my other armpit, giving it the same attention, and I was writhing beneath him. My hands fisted in the sheets because I didn't know what else to do with them. My cock was leaking steadily now, smearing precome across my stomach.
“Grant, please?—”
“I've thought about this,” he said, almost conversational, except for the way his voice shook. “Thought about how you'd taste. How you'd smell. How you'd look spread out beneath me.”
“And?”
“Better than I imagined.” He bit down on the muscle there, and I gasped. “So much fucking better.”
He kissed his way back down my body, and this time when he reached my cock, he didn't tease. He took me into his mouth in one smooth motion, and the wet heat was so intense I nearly came right then.
“Fuck, fuck, stop—” I grabbed his hair, pulling him off before I could embarrass myself. “I'm too close. If you keep doing that, I'm going to come.”
He pulled off with an obscene pop, lips wet and swollen. “That's the point.”
“No. I want—I need you inside me when I come.”
Something dark and possessive flashed in his eyes. Something that looked like hunger and ownership and mine. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Alright.” He kissed the inside of my thigh, teeth scraping over sensitive skin. “Roll over. On your stomach.”
I did, and immediately felt his hands on my ass—squeezing, spreading, his thumbs tracing the crease. The touch wasproprietary, like he owned this part of me. Like he had every right to touch me however he wanted.
Then I felt his tongue, and I nearly levitated off the bed.
“Holy fuck?—”
“Stay still.” His voice was commanding, the coach voice, and my cock throbbed at the tone. “Don't move.”
He ate me out like he was starving for it. Tongue circling my hole, pressing in, making me gasp and moan and fist the sheets. Every time I tried to push back for more, his hands held my hips in place, keeping me exactly where he wanted me.
The sensation was overwhelming. I'd been rimmed before, but never like this. Never with this intensity, this focused attention, like he was trying to wreck me completely. His tongue was hot and wet and relentless, circling and pressing and occasionally pushing inside just enough to make me crazy.
I could feel his stubble scratching against my ass, the vibration of his groans, the way his fingers dug into my hips hard enough to bruise.
“You taste so fucking good,” he groaned against me, and the words vibrated through my entire body. “Could do this for hours.”
“Please don't.” My voice was wrecked, barely recognizable. “Please, Grant, I need?—”
“I know what you need.”
I heard him move, heard the sound of a drawer opening—because of course he'd packed supplies, of course he'd been prepared even when he was pretending this wouldn't happen. The thought should have annoyed me. Instead, it made me hotter. He'd wanted this. Had planned for it even while denying it.
