I pushed him into the shower, swim trunks and all, pinned him to the tiles, and kissed him like I needed it more than air. I wasn’t sure Ididn’t, my whole chest felt tight when I looked at him, and kissing him, touching him,beingwith him made it easier to breathe.
I was drowning, but as long as he held my hand, I could still breathe.
Wes hummed under me, always happy when I took like this, and by now I was actually convinced that he liked it, that I wasn’t pushing or being demanding, that this was what hewantedand he wouldn’t have nearly as much fun if I didn’t give it to him.
He didn’t think I was pushy or bossy or needy. He thought I washot.
Wes moaned under me as I shoved his trunks out of the way, pushing them down so they fell to the shower floor with a wet sound, and wrapped my hand around his hard cock.
“This for me?” I asked, stroking the length, hot arousal pooling in my gut at the thought of how hard he was.For me.
That still hadn’t gotten old, and I doubted it would.
“Itisyour birthday,” Wes said, pupils blown, cheeks flushed, chest already heaving.
“This is,” I began, pressing a hot, open-mouthed kiss to his lips. “A very good,” I added, mouthing my way down his neck, ducking down to suck a bruise onto his collarbone and smirking at the rush of precome that flowed over my hand. “Verythoughtful gift.”
Wes gasped as I dropped to my knees—thirty wasn’tsobad, after all—and came to eye-level with his cock.
“It’syourbirthday,” Wes said. “You don’t have to.”
“I want to,” I said, licking my lips. “I’m planning on sucking your cock, dragging you to bed, rimming you until you’re begging me to fuck you, and then giving in as slow and long as you can take it.”
Wes stared at me, mouth hanging open, wet hair dripping down his face. His eyes outright burned with lust, and I’d never felt hotter in my entire life.
I pressed a kiss to his stomach, letting myself inhale the scent of his skin before looking up at him again.
“Because that’s whatIwant,” I said. “Okay?”
Wes’s throat bobbed as he swallowed.
“Okay.”
* * *
The only thingbetter than having Wes come down my throat was having him whimpering under me, face buried in the pillow he was hugging, knees slipping on the sheets as he pushed back against me.
There was nothing hotter than giving him what he wanted, than seeing him like this, right on the verge of begging for my cock, helpless under my mouth.
“Hayden,” he half-growled, half-sobbed, hips rocking in midair, searching for sorely-needed friction for his neglected, leaking cock, already dripping precome beneath us.
“Yeah?” I asked, pressing a kiss to his thigh and smiling as it trembled under me.
Wes made a strangled noise, moaned, and then went quiet again.
No one had ever made me feel better about sex than he did.
I laughed as I went back to work, ignoring the way my jaw muscles warned me that I wouldn’t be thrilled about overworking them tomorrow. Right now, I didn’t care. I loved using my mouth, and I loved the way Wes melted under me when I did.
“You’re really gonna make me beg?” Wes asked, muffled by the pillow, whole body heaving as he gasped for breath.
“Yep,” I said, letting my lips brush over his skin as I spoke, pausing to sink my teeth into his ass.
Wes yelped, and sobbed, but stubbornly held out as I started again, long broad strokes that trailed from behind his balls up. Another heavy drop of precome fell to the bed, and I knew for sure that he’d give out sooner rather than later.
“Hayden,pleasefuck me,” he said, voice wrecked, trembling all over.
“Why didn’t you just ask?” I teased, keeping my voice as innocent as I could.
