I pull back and eye it, Lucas saying, “I jerked off earlier, thinking about you. Not the first time I’ve thought about you when I make myself come, Hunt.”
A wave of trembles races down my spine. I love the way he says what’s on his mind, the way he puts it all out there,not caring if it’s appropriate or the right time to say what he wants, because no matter what, Lucas is always himself.
“Can I fuck you?” I ask, voice raw.
Instead of replying, Lucas hooks his fingers in the waistband of his pajamas, pulling them down. He’s hard like me, long and eager, his balls full and heavy. My mouth waters at the sight of them. I want to suck them, breathe in the scent of him as I make a home in his groin.
“I guess that answers that,” he says.
“What?”
“I wondered about you. Top? Bottom?”
“Vers,” I answer.
“Me too, but I mostly top.”
“Oh. We can…” I really don’t care either way. I just want him. God help me, but I want the last person I should.
“You can fuck me, Hunter. I want you to fuck me.” He lies down on the bed, legs spread, hand on his cock, stroking. “How do you want me?”
Every way. However I can have him, until we have to walk away.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Hunter
“Right there fornow.” He makes a beautiful sight with his slender body and the dreamy look in his eyes. Just moments ago, he looked tired, half-asleep, maybe a little sad, but now he looks rejuvenated.
Except maybe the sadness is still there too. Maybe it’s always been there, but I’ve never taken the time to see it. I feel like so many things with Lucas have gone unnoticed because in his family, he was never the most important person in the room.
I take off my shoes and socks, my gaze never leaving Lucas. He jacked off thinking of me, maybe lying right there in that bed, replaying memories of our night together as he played with that delicious fucking cock of his and made himself come.
“Do you need a minute?” I ask him.
“I’m fine,” he replies, and I remove my pants and underwear, then my shirt, before climbing onto the bed and lying on top of him. Lucas’s legs immediately wrap around me as if he’s trying to hold me close, like if he doesn’t, I might walk out again.
Brushing my thumb against his small, pebbled nipples, I say, “I’m sorry…for—”
“Later,” Lucas cuts me off. “Right now, I just want you tofuck me.” He dances his fingertips over the bruises on my torso from the game tonight. “This game takes a lot from you.”
“They’re just bruises.”
“Maybe I wasn’t only talking about those.” Before I can reply, he’s got his hand at the back of my head, tugging me down, our lips drawn together again. It’s the slowest kiss we’ve shared, like we’re not in a rush, like we both know we won’t keep doing this, but instead of being so hungry for it that we rush through it, we’re taking our time, savoring. Feeling.
Lucas’s heels dig into my thighs, and I rut against him, rubbing my achingly hard cock against his while I let Lucas take possession of my mouth. His hand is tight in my hair, his other one running up and down my back, while he’s alternating between nibbling at my lip and making sure his tongue tastes every millimeter of my mouth. Fuck, he feels good, tastes good—a hunger I didn’t know I had, a craving that had been dormant, and now it’s all I can think about.
Lucas.
Lucas.
Lucas.
Wanting to get it all in while I can, I kiss my way down his throat, his chest, his belly, sliding down the bed as I do. Lucas eyes me with heavy-lidded, lust-drunk eyes and a cocky smirk that makes me smile. I haven’t smiled as much as I do with him in a long time.
“You hungry for some cock?” he asks.
“Yes.” I kiss the tip of his erection, then pepper kisses down his shaft, before nuzzling my face in the sac I’ve been admiring. The hairs on his groin feel good against my skin, his scent a heady mix of soap and natural body musk that’s so fucking intoxicating. It smells like he took a shower recently, and I almost wish he hadn’t, just want the natural fragrance of his body.
