My fingers drift over his dick on their way to his waistband. He shivers, and his lips part on a shaky exhale. I curl my fingers under the top of his shorts and skate them back and forth. His breath catches, the taut skin of his lower abdomen flinching. Those swollen pink lips part, unsteady tequila-lime puffs dancing from them. I need them. I lean in for a taste. But as unsteady as his breaths are, his kiss is unwavering. Demanding.
His fingers dance up my back, bringing my tank with them. I help him pull it over my head, and then my lips are back on his.
“Iwantyoutofuckme,” he blurts against my mouth.
My turn to freeze. No. Scratch that. We’re both frozen, our lips locked.
I draw back. “What?” I wince. Woof, that had come out about fifty octaves too high. I clear my throat and drop my voice. “What did you just say?” I swear, this man goes from finesse to artlessness faster than he steals bases.
He grins—all dopey and lopsided and fucking adorable. “Didn’t realize your voice could go that high, J-Squared.”
I roll my eyes and let out a weary sigh. But I love it. His teasing and taunts, the way he runs his mouth. His most annoying trait has somehow…become my favorite thing about him. I cradle his cheek, take a moment to bask in the warmth of his skin. Bask in the sunshine that is this man.
“Say it again,” I whisper.
“I want you to top me.” His gaze is glued to mine, and there’s no doubt there, but he’s tense. His throat ripples in a swallow. “I’m sure,” he hurries to add. “Nervous, but sure. I…I’ve wanted to for a while. Got some advice from Frankie and Madz. Been working my way up the ladder of dilators to the largest size in the kit I bought. They’re glitter with a blue gem at the base, wild, right? Like they’re actually real fucking pretty. Somehow that made it easier to shove up there, no idea why. So, uh. Yeah. I think I’ll stop talking now.”
I fight my smile, amusement threatening to bubble over in my chest. This fucking man. He’s one of a kind. The perfect kind.
“All right,” I say hoarsely.
Oh God. The thought of being inside him? It’s something I’ve fantasized about so many times I’ve lost count. My heart shakes with anticipation, with a want so strong it borders on dangerous.
“How do you want to do this, Sunshine?”
A soft blush dots his cheeks. “What—ah—position would you recommend? For a novice…”
I can’t help myself. I dart down and kiss that rosy color, relish the heat against my lips. “Riding me would be a good option. It’ll give you the most control over pace and depth.”
Visions of Shane seated on me, head thrown back, blond curls swaying as he rides me…Fuck.My cock pulses against my fly.
“Um, missionary is good too,” I say roughly. My brain is having trouble remembering any positions now that those images are flitting through my mind. “The face-to-face connection, the ability to see your expressions, would be, ah, good.” Wow, the words are really wording right now.
“Hands and knees is probably the easiest for stretching you and getting inside. You know…ass up in the air makes for easy access.” Damn. I think that sight would actually kill me. That sexy back arched, tight ass on display. “But that gives me most of the control,” I rasp. “In the end, the position isn’t what matters, but the communication between partners and what makes you feel the most comfortable.”
“From behind then,” he whispers. “It’s how I’ve pictured it when…” The blush on his cheeks deepens.
He’s pictured it. Me taking him from behind. My pulse thumps heavy in my veins. “When you what, Surfer Boy? When do you picture it? What do you think about?” My hand rubs leisurely over his hard length. I want the fantasy. I want to know so I can make it a reality. God, I want to make it happen for him.
“When I’m jerking it.” His breaths are coming faster now, his eyes taking on that glazed cast they do when desire settles over him. “Sometimes I stroke one out while I’m on my hands and knees, imagining you’re behind me. Your chest pressed up against my back, hips slamming into me. Caging me in, your weight bearing down on me. Fucking me into the mattress.”
I drop my head to his neck and let out a groan. Heaven. That sounds like fucking heaven. I press a quick kiss to his neck, then sink to my knees and pull him to the edge of the bed. I dust kisses over his inner thigh until I reach those indecently tiny popsicle shorts. I mouth his erection beneath the fabric, and he bucks into me. Then I slowly peel those short shorts down.
And reveal the tiniest pair of turquoise bikini briefs. A choked whimper flees me. Kill me. Just kill me. I slide my finger under the thin band running over his hip. Lift it. Let it snap back down. Fuck. Me.
“Not, ah, quite lingerie. But I may have revamped my underwear collection a little.”
I nuzzle his dick, and he gasps.
“I do have to s-say,” he says shakily. “My ass looks real fucking good in them. Definitely should’ve been rocking these a long time ago.”
I graze my nose up where his dick is desperately trying to escape the small turquoise pouch while I slide a hand under him to cup his ass. I groan. So. Cheeky.
But I can’t hold off any longer. Not with the knowledge that I get to beinhim soon.
I tug down those pretty blue briefs and suck his crown into my mouth. I leave them on his thighs for a moment, massaging just above where they’re trapping his legs together. Fuck, that’s hot. When he’s used to me taking him, I’d love to fuck him with these around his thighs, forcing him nice and tight for me, limiting his movement, putting him even more at my mercy. I moan around him, and a strangled sound rips from his throat. That’s for another time, though.
I quickly pull the shorts and briefs off and give his thigha slap. “Hands and knees in the middle of the bed, Sunshine.”
