“No. Definitely no problem,” he said, wanting to assure him he had no concerns about belonging to this man. Even for only a little while.
“Good,” Donovan said as he curled his enormous fist around Tate’s cock. His fingers overlapped, but based on the gleam in Donovan’s eyes, he approved.
Finally, Donovan’s gaze slowly moved back to his face, and a smirk formed. “No matter what I do, you don’t come without asking me nicely. Understand?”
Tate nodded, even as he wondered whether he was capable of holding back. He’d never been this turned on before.
The next thing Tate knew, Donovan was on his knees at the side of the bed, his arms curled around Tate’s thighs as he easily pulled him to the edge of the bed. It seemed effortless on Donovan’s part, and holy shit, that was so freaking hot. But not nearly as much as it was when Donovan began kissing and licking his cock and balls, tormenting him with his warm breath.
It was all Tate could do to breathe. The pleasure was intense. The attention was overwhelming. There was no doubt Donovan was experienced, and he knew exactly how to lick and suck to make Tate moan. He never rushed; there was no edging involved. Donovan didn’t push him to the brink and bring him back down. He simply savored, alternating between sucking his cock and his sac, then kissing along the inside of his thigh, the stubble on his jaw abrading Tate’s skin in the most delicious way.
When Tate whimpered, Donovan stopped, joining him on the bed, moving over him. Tate reached for him, eager to be an equal participant. He slid his hands inside Donovan’s shirt, his palms gliding over warm skin, the soft hair on his chest slipping between Tate’s fingers, those delicious muscles shifting beneath his touch. Donovan kissed him again. Slower this time.
“It’s gonna be a long night,” Donovan whispered against his mouth. “I will have licked every inch of you and made you come with my hands, my mouth, and my cock before you ever see the light of day.”
“Yes, please,” Tate whimpered, curling his leg around Donovan’s thigh, trying to pull him closer.
Donovan grinned against his lips. “No need to rush. Just enjoy.”
Oh, he fully intended to. Hell, the night could end now, and this would qualify as the most intense night of Tate’s life. He didn’t even want to think about what that said about his previous encounters.
Donovan sat up and pulled his shirt off his arms, letting it slide down until it fluttered to the floor behind him.
Tate reached for the button on his jeans, moving slowly, waiting to see if Donovan would stop him. When he didn’t, he flipped it free, then lowered the zipper. The head of Donovan’s cock was right there, the tip glistening over the waistband of his boxer briefs. Tate licked his lips, his mouth watering to taste him.
Donovan must’ve read his mind because his eyes flashed hot, and a moment later, he was off the bed, stripping his jeans down his legs. Tate lifted up, watching, waiting with eager anticipation. When Donovan stood tall, gloriously naked, Tate inhaled sharply. The man was sinfully beautiful. His cock was a far cry from average. Nine inches? Ten? And thicker than any that Tate had ever encountered.
“You’ll take me. Don’t worry,” Donovan said as he joined him on the bed again. “And it’ll be good for both of us.”
Tate had a feeling he was sincere in that. And for the first time in a long time, he trusted the man he was with. Not with his heart. Never that. But definitely with his body.
“Come here,” Donovan said, curling his hand behind Tate’s head as he rolled to his back, pulling Tate with him.
Tate straddled his hips, their cocks rubbing together, making Tate see stars once again. He planted his hands beside Donovan’s head and groaned when Donovan gripped his ass with both hands, rocking him forward and back, increasing the friction between their erections.
“Kiss me, Tate.”
Heat bloomed in his entire body as he kissed Donovan, whimpering and moaning as the sensations intensified. It was more intimate than sex, this slow grind, the way Donovan’s fingers spread his ass cheeks apart, teasing him lightly.
When he pulled back to catch his breath, he met Donovan’s stare and grinned.
“Why’re you smilin’?”
“Because this … it feels so good.”
“Just wait, little boy.”
Oh, man. Should that be such a turn-on? It was. It so definitely was.
“It gets better,” Donovan tacked on.
Tate wasn’t sure that was even possible, but he was damn sure eager to find out.
Eight
An hour and a half after Reillyleft him at the gingerbread house, Brady pulled down the Jamesons’ driveway, continuing past the main house toward the barn.
It felt weird not to stop because, except when they’d been helping to design the barndominium, Brady had never parked back here. He always spent his time at the main house, where he’d practically grown up. That house wasn’t overflowing with kids these days, but the family still got together often, and Brady was usually right there in the thick of things.
