His hands grabbed my ass, squeezing hard enough to make me gasp. “What about now?”
“Only the good kind.”
He spread my cheeks wide, and I felt warmth drip against my exposed skin. I sucked in a sharp breath. When his tonguefinally laved over me, slow and deliberate, gratitude for the shower I’d taken before bed flashed through my haze.
“Fuck,” I whined, hips twitching.
He urged me to bend my leg, and I obeyed without hesitation, giving him better access. Then he proceeded to ruin me with his mouth. Licking, sucking, prodding at my hole until it softened under his attention. I groaned into the pillow when his tongue breached the puckered barrier. In and out, he fucked me with it, slow and deliberate. Between his mouth and the friction of my cock still trapped between my stomach and the mattress, I climbed higher and higher, right to the edge.
Then he pulled away.
I sobbed at the sudden emptiness.
Bodhi rose onto his knees and climbed off the bed without a word.
“Where are you going?” I asked, chest heaving as my body struggled to back away from the peak.
He unzipped the duffle bag he’d left on the cuck chair in the corner and glanced at me over his shoulder, smirking. “Grabbing supplies.”
The pause gave me time to appreciate his back. Not overly broad, but toned from years of movement. Ink spilled across his skin in familiar patterns. A phoenix rising from ashes. An anime character I recognised. Roses. A date I suspected belonged to his mum. So many stories written into him.
His back tapered into a narrow waist, then into a perfectly round ass that always filled his skinny jeans like they were custom-made. Soft. Plump. Fucking biteable. And when he turned, I finally got a proper look at the cock I’d been imagining for days.
Thick. Longer than average, but not intimidating. Cut, with a flushed mushroom head already leaking precum. Dark pubes,neatly trimmed. Heavy balls hanging beneath. A purple vein running up the length that I wanted to trace with my tongue before taking him all the way down.
He returned to the bed before I could stare myself into insanity, dropping a travel-sized bottle of lube and a condom beside me. My heart kicked harder at the sight, excitement thrumming through me. My spit-slick hole fluttered in anticipation.
He grabbed a spare pillow, and I lifted my hips so he could slide it underneath. Then I spread my legs wide and looked up at him, waiting.
“Jesus Christ,” he rumbled, wrapping a tattooed hand around his cock and stroking once. “You’d make the prettiest picture in my sketchbook right now.”
I grinned and pushed my ass higher, presenting myself. His groan sent a rush of satisfaction through me.
“Next time,” I promised.
Because posing naked for hours while he drew me, maybe bringing myself to the edge over and over as he watched, sounded like the best fucking time.
I wiggled my ass, swaying my hips. “Are you gonna fuck me, Just Bodhi?” My hand drifted towards the lube. “Or should I just fuck myself?”
He growled, releasing his cock to snatch up the bottle. “Don’t you dare.”
My laughter cut off when his slick fingers found me. He teased the rim first, slow and cruel, applying just enough pressure to make me ache. Then he leaned forward and bit my ass cheek.
My startled gasp turned into a moan as a finger slid inside.
“Oh, Christ.”
He moved in and out, stroking deep. I hoped the hotel’swalls were thick, because I was moaning shamelessly as he added a second finger. I rocked back against him, fucking myself on his hand.
“That’s it, beautiful,” he rasped. “Take what you need.”
I turned my head just enough to catch him watching over my shoulder, eyes locked on where we were joined. His fingers spread, stretching me carefully, deliberately. Preparing me.
Then he shifted.
Curled his fingers just right.
My whole body jolted like I’d been struck by lightning, a raw, animal sound tearing from my throat. He’d found my prostate. And he knew exactly what to do with it.
