“Shut up.”
“Make me.”
The gleam in his eyes is dangerous. Playful, but daring—taunting me to do something about all the tension we’ve been tamping down all day. All the lust that’s built up over nearly a lifetime and has finally been released. It’s like letting air out of a balloon, but instead of a slow leak, it pops and explodes.
And that’s how I end up in the butler’s pantry, with my pants down around my ankles, fucking Ari’s face hard enough the back of his head thuds against the cherrywood cabinets.
I’ve never felt so feral. So primal.
Ari takes me so well, taking me way farther back in his throat than I ever could, swallowing around me. Every gag comes with a moan, his fingernails digging into my ass, urging me forward. I come faster than I think I ever have before, growling as I spill down his throat.
“Fuck,” I pant, slumping against the counter to catch my breath as the room spins. “You are way too good at that.”
I don’t care to consider what kind of practice he must have had to take someone that hard and deep. Instead, I focus on the shape of his throat as it bobs, swallowing down every drop of what I give him.
I step back enough to let him stand, then crowd him against the ledge of the countertop, capturing his mouth and licking inside to taste myself on his tongue. My cock twitches, unsure if it wants to continue deflating, but not quite able to reach full hardness again.
“You’re going to be the death of me,” I pant as I palm his bulge through his jeans. Before I can open his fly, a sound stops me in my tracks.
We freeze, our heads cocked toward the small hallway that leads to the kitchen and open-concept communal areas of the suite. The refrigerator door shuts, and the sounds of footsteps fade as someone presumably walks out of the kitchen.
Ari and I hold each other’s gazes for a long, tense moment before we both start righting our clothes. I pull my pants up and tuck my now softening cock away before looking Ari over to check how he looks. There’s a tiny smear of something on the corner of his mouth. It probably wouldn’t be noticeable to anyone else, but just in case, I lean forward and lick it away, slowly dragging my tongue along Ari’s lips. He lets out a slow, breathy moan that reminds me we need to get out of this pantry and into one of our rooms before we get ourselves caught.
Grabbing Ari’s hand, I creep to the arched doorway and peek out. I don’t see anyone, so I pull him behind me, only to halt abruptly three steps into the kitchen. My heart thuds harshly in my ribcage.
Oh, shit.
Scott is standing on the other side of the kitchen island, holding two water bottles and looking down at his phone. His eyes slowly lift to mine, a knowing glint of amusement sparkling back at me.
“Can’t say I expected it to be the two of you stepping out of there,” Scott says.
“We were just, um?—”
“Oh, I know what you were doing back there.” He leans to look around me, where Ari is pressed against my back. “Respect, dude.”
Did he just compliment Ari? Did he see what we were doing, and that’s how he’s so sure? Was I really so out of it I didn’t notice someone peeking in three feet away?
“Little advice,” Scott offers. “If you don’t want anyone to know you’re messing around with each other, you should probably keep to your own private spaces. I could hear what was happening the second I stepped into the suite.”
His phone pings, and he looks down to check his messages. Then, with a wink, he tells us to stay hydrated, gesturing to the bottles in his hand, and makes his way down the hallway.
“Where is he even going?” Ari whispers.
I made an educated guess. “Naz’s room,” I say.
Ari forgets to be afraid that we just got caught and lifts his eyebrow. “Naz? Really?”
“I know, right?”
“Did you know?”
“Sort of.”
“Do you think he’ll tell Naz?”
“I don’t know,” I say honestly. “But he’s right. We should be a lot more careful. I shouldn’t have?—”
“Stop,” Ari says firmly. “You are not the only responsible adult here. I’m just as guilty as you are if we end up getting outed because of this.”
