“I’m sorry,” he says, lying down next to me again.
“Don’t be sorry. That felt really good.” I kiss his mouth, his chin, his cheeks.
“Yeah?” he asks, voice laced with concern.
“Yeah, it felt great. Exactly how it’s supposed to feel. Everything except… you know.”
He looks chagrined, like he might want to keep trying. But it’s my turn to play.
I push him onto his back and take a second to admire the sight before me. Dusky nipples topped with hard pebbles. Scattering of dark hair across his chest. A treasure trail that cuts down the middle of his flat stomach. A beautiful cock lying on his hip, already wet with pre-cum.
Gorgeous. Stunning.
I lower myself to worship him the way he worshiped me, leaving wet trails all over his body. I spend long minutes torturing each nipple until Santino’s squirming and shouting profanities loud enough for the neighbors to hear.
“Fuck, Hayden. Fuck. Christ, that feels good. Ah! Yes! Fuck!”
He nearly flies off the bed when I finally get to his cock. I tease it with the tip of my tongue, flicking that sensitive spot right under the head. I dip into his slit to taste more of hisslightly bitter pre-cum. I mouth at the base of his dick, close to the spot that connects to his balls.
He smells so good. The cinnamon scent is stronger down here, darker and muskier. I breathe it in, letting it fill my senses and block out every other thought, every other voice.
Santino spreads his legs as my attention shifts toward his balls and I rearrange myself between them. My tongue bathes the loose skin of his scrotum before I take a testicle into my mouth.
“Oh fuck. Oh god, your mouth is so hot. Goddammit.” He keeps lifting his head to watch me, then dropping it back onto the pillow and throwing his arm over his eyes. And every time he does that, a tiny bubble tickles my stomach. He’s so cute. So funny and adorable.
I move on to his taint. Smooth skin interrupted by one thick seam that I lick along, nibble on. Santino’s voice rises an octave as I lave my tongue over that area, then press on it with my thumb.
He automatically lifts his legs when he senses me moving lower. To his hole. That hallowed entrance to his body. The muscle twitches like it’s winking at me. Like it’s begging me to lick it, stretch it, fill it. I wish I could. I wish I could sink myself so deep into Santino that I don’t know where I end and he begins.
At the back of my mind, the voice starts to whisper. Just incoherent pspsps that I can’t make out. I shut it down before they coalesce, diving back into Santino’s body instead.
Using just the very tip of my tongue, I tease the wrinkled skin around his hole. The muscle clenches and releases at the barely there contact. Clasping the backs of his knees, Santino lifts his hips farther off the bed. “Please, Hayden. Please. Fuck me. Please.”
The whispers get a little louder, but I push them away.
I fill my palms with the two globes of Santino’s ass and hold him in place. Then I seal my lips around his hole and spear my tongue at the tight opening. Again and again. Unrelenting. Until he relaxes enough to let me inside.
His flavor explodes on my tongue. Dark and spicy and entirely intoxicating. I shove my tongue in as far as it’ll go, searching for more. And when I can’t seem to find anymore, I add a finger to the mix.
Wet with my spit, my index finger sinks slowly into Santino’s body. I watch that spot where it disappears, where I can’t see it anymore because it’s inside Santino. I twist the finger, then curl it and listen as Santino howls.
His cursing and begging have devolved into babbling and I can’t help the smile that tugs on my lips. It feels weird in my cheeks, the muscles unaccustomed to bunching in that way. I haven’t really, truly smiled in so long, my face has forgotten how.
I add a second finger, alternating my fingers with my tongue. Santino can’t hold still under me. His squirming is quickly escalating into thrashing. More bubbles tickle my stomach.
Adding a third finger stretches him nice and wide and Santino moans his approval.
“Yes, fuck yes. Just like that. That’s perfect.”
I work my fingers around, twisting and curling them until I find that bundle of nerves hidden inside him. When I press down on it, Santino almost levitates off the bed.
“Fuck! Oh fuck. Holy fucking Christ. Do that again,” he demands.
A smile breaks across my face. I’m more than happy to oblige.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-FOUR
