“Shit,” he says, huffing out a laugh. “That’s not how or when I meant to say that.”
“Is it true?” I ask, staring up into his eyes.
“Absolutely. And I had planned to tell you here in New York, just…like…on a carriage ride through the snow in Central Park, not in my bedroom directly off the plane.”
“I love you, too,” I tell him, meaning every word. “And as nice as the carriage ride sounds, there’s something about it just flying from your mouth because you couldn’t hold it in that really does it for me.”
Grabbing his hand, I guide him toward my dick so he can see the truth in my words.
Talon has never touched my dick. He’s always allowed me to be in control of how we get off, which I appreciate, but that changes now. I want to melt into that place of bliss athistouch instead of my own hand.
“Can I?” he asks, bringing both hands to the button on my jeans.
I nod with a shaky exhale.
He moves in close, his lips grazing my neck as he pops the button through the hole. The sound of my zipper coming down reverberates around the room, adding to our panted breaths.
His mouth moves to my ear, and when his hand makes the faintest contact, he fuckingwhimpers. It’s a sound, much like his declaration of love, that just erupted from his throat without his permission.
“Fuuuck.” It’s half whine, half moan as his fingers close around my shaft. “Tell me how you like it.”
Even on the rare occasions when I was home and Derek wasn’t, I didn’t reach for my cock. I wanted a break from being touched more than I wanted to be satisfied. So, in reality, I’ve been driven purely by desire when getting off with Talon, and I just always did what felt right in the moment.
“Whatever you’re doing feels really good,” I tell him.
Leaning against the wall behind me, I watch him stroke me for a second before his tongue requests entry into my mouth. I thread my fingers through his hair as he kisses me deeply. I grip his roots involuntarily, and I immediately know what I want and how I want it.
Reaching down, I grab his wrist to stop his strokes.
He looks at me, eyes full of concern, thinking he did something wrong.
My pants are still mostly pulled up, so I use my free hand to hold them in place and walk backward toward his massive bathroom, his wrist still in my other hand.
“I know what I want. Would you be willing to get on your knees for me?” I ask. His consent to this is obviously vital.
“Willing?Baby, I’mbegging.”
My skin burns with the heat of a thousand suns already. I may need to run cold water for fear of overheating.
“Let’s shower. Then I’m all yours,” I tell Talon.
Even though the plane was private and luxurious, I’ve still been up for a long time, and I’ve moved around a lot. If this is the first time Talon has a dick in his mouth, I want it to be the cleanest, freshest dick on the planet.
The water barely has time to run from my shoulders to the tile floor before Talon is on his knees.
“I can’t wait, Zeke.”
I laugh nervously, reaching for the soap.
“Thirty seconds. Let me wash the travel day off at least.”
He nods, an intense look on his face as he watches me soap up my dick before sliding my hands lower, ensuringwhateverhis mouth touches is clean.
I wish I could say I’m not nervous at all, but that would be a lie. Just because I want this and am ready to move forward doesn’t mean all my baggage simply disappears.
What if he doesn’t like it?
What if I freak out?
