Eventually, the kiss slows down, becomes languid and content rather than needy. “I want to blow you,” Marlon says against my lips.
My moan escapes me almost before I’ve fully grasped the meaning of the words.
“I appreciate you trying to make me feel special,” he goes on. “But I need something else right now.”
I blink. I wasn’t trying to make him special—he just is. So maybe that’s how I touch him, how I look at him. Like he’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. “Yeah,” I whisper. “Okay. Yeah. Sure.”
Marlon’s grin is a little bashful and something inside me melts. “Can’t leave you hanging twice, right?”
A soundless laugh escapes me because if he thinks I need a reward after he’s given me his body, he is so wrong. But I’m dying to find out what his mouth feels like around my hard cock, so I roll myself off him and land on the bed next to him. The pillow is wet from his hair and warm from his heat.
Marlon pushes himself into a seated position, then looks down at me with a soft smile that makes my heart go a little crazy. “Stop,” he says quietly, booping my nose with his finger.
“What? I’m not doing anything!”
“Looking at me like that.” He shakes his head but there’s no reprimand in his tone, nothing but warmth in his gaze. I look up at him and get lost in the connection as we take each other in. Finally, Marlon shakes his head. “You should see yourself.”
I worry, suddenly, that he might have seen too much in my eyes. Seen everything. All the things I’m trying so desperately to suppress. So I hastily wipe the grin off my face and close my eyes. “Bracing myself for a terrible blowjob,” I quip, frantic to cover up my emotions. “Trying to be encouraging.”
Marlon grins, slow and crooked, almost predatory, and a shiver runs down my spine. “Kind of you,” he murmurs, then lowers himself to the bed, pushing down to my groin. His hands sneak around my thighs, spreading them open. His lips brush over the sensitive skin under my bellybutton. “I appreciate it.” His hot breath ghosts over my skin and draws an involuntary whimper from me.
Soft kisses along my skin follow, driving all coherent thought from my brain. I don’t know what I was expecting—clumsiness, maybe, or even anger, after everything that happened today—but not this gentleness. It unravels me.
When he licks a slow stripe up my cock, I groan and one of my hands finds its way into his damp hair. I’m not trying to control anything, don’t want to push him, I’m just desperate to hold on. Anchor myself in his presence so I can believe this is happening.
Marlon hums, clearly enjoying the touch, and the vibration reverberates through my entire body. He takes me, then again, deeper this time, and I tense. He’s determined. I know what his face looks like right now, I’ve seen it a thousand times on the field. Only this time, I’m the target he’s trying to get at.
“Holy shit,” I breathe. “You’re gonna ruin me.”
He pulls back for a second, his lips shiny, his gaze intense. “Good.” He goes back to sucking on my cock so quickly I can’teven come up with a response. My brain short-circuits. I had forgotten what a real, intense, wanton blowjob is like. How fucking good it is. I haven’t been with anyone since December, lost in my hopeless Marlon crush, and before that … I can’t remember the last time I’ve felt this wanted.
Marlon’s big hands are strong and steady on my thighs, his mouth eager and intense, and I feel owned in the softest possible way, something I never knew I craved until this very moment.
“Fuck,” I finally get out, when he caresses my balls with feathery light touches, “Mar, shit, I’m close?—”
He doesn’t stop; if anything, he goes even harder, and I come with a ragged cry that Marlon silences with a steady hand over my mouth. My hips tremble and he swallows everything I have to give.
For a moment, we stay like this, then he slowly lets my softening cock slip from his mouth and sits up. He glances my way, oddly shy as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. He is so goddamn beautiful somebody should make him pay a fine for it. This isn’t fair.
“Holyshit,” I wheeze, working hard to catch my breath. “What the fuck was that? How are you so good at this?”
Marlon shrugs, one-shouldered, casual as can be. He doesn’t look at me. “Been practicing.”
My brain is still not back at full capacity and so it takes me a second to fully grasp what he said. “Wait—what?” I sit up and stare at him in disbelief. “Are you serious?”
“Sorry you weren’t my first.” His tone is sarcastic, almost grim. Like he’s trying to keep me away. “Didn’t know I should have saved myself for you.”
The words land like a sucker punch and I inhale sharply. “That’s not—” I stop myself. Yeah, okay, maybe it is like that, but I can’t go there right now. “That’s so fucking dangerous!”
Marlon gets up off the bed. “Oh yeah?” There’s a coolness in his voice I’ve never heard before. He heads over to his bag and grabs a fresh T-shirt, pulling it over his head, covering all that glorious muscle. “Like it’s dangerous when you do it?”
“That’s different—” I start, though I’m not sure how to go on. The truth I don’t want to acknowledge is that it’s the exact same thing. There’s a reason besides my misguided emotions that I haven’t been on the apps lately. With my sudden rise to fame, it’s getting too risky.
The same is true for Marlon.
He’s still across the room, putting on boxer briefs. Him somewhat dressed and me still naked makes me feel vulnerable. Instinctively, I scoot up the bed and pull the covers over me.
“I’m a big boy,” Marlon says coolly. “I know what I’m doing.” All the softness from mere minutes ago is gone now, and he’s no longer the sweet, almost shy friend he’s always been. He sounds more grown-up, more serious, and that’s weird and also unexpectedly hot.
