“Still can’t tell you.” He turns from the window suddenly, catching me by surprise and wrapping his arms around me in a rough bear hug, almost a tackle.
“Whoa,” I blurt as he backs me quickly to the bed. My knees hit the edge, and we go down together.
He grins down at me. “I caught you.”
“What a challenge that must have been for you,” I tease.
His mouth finds mine, and he angles his head, his tongue sliding deep into my mouth. I sigh under him, cradling his body in my arms, pressing my chest to his. Our tongues battle, and I push my hips up against his thigh, grinding into him until I’m painfully hard again.
Finally, he breaks the kiss, lifting up just enough to reach between us and undo my belt.
“I’ve been watching your ass in these slutty little jeans all night,” he says, lowering my zipper and sliding his hand inside. He brushes his nose across mine. “Wanting to fuck you every minute since I saw you.”
“I’ve been wanting to fuck you every minute since I saw you in ninth grade.”
“Liar.” He wraps his fingers around my cock, giving me a smug look when it throbs against his palm, and a shudder passes through me. He strokes down my length, and his eyes fall closed, his nostrils flaring as he sucks in a slow, ragged breath. “God damn, you’re even bigger than I remember.”
I lift my hips, pushing into his hand, and circle the back of his neck at the same time, bringing his lips down to mine. “Show me how much you like it,” I murmur against his mouth, and then I kiss him, hard and urgent, tugging his lower lip into my mouth, testing it with my teeth until he moans. I push my tongue inside, tasting him, the smoke and coffee and the masculine scent of him making my cock throb again.
He drags his grip along my length again, smoothing precum over my tip with his thumb, then his palm, before moving back down my shaft. He releases a wordless, needy moan into my mouth that sends me to the edge. I can feel his cock through his jeans, grinding against my thigh as his tongue battles with mine. I’m about to cum from two minutes of a fucking hand job if he doesn’t stop touching me like that, making those sounds, like a man starved for touch, like a man who’s been waiting five fucking years for this.
“Colt,” I choke out, breaking the kiss. “Fuck. I want your mouth on me.”
“Yeah?” He looks down at me, his eyes hooded, his lips swollen from our kiss. “Tell me how much you want it, and maybe I’ll give it to you.”
I hear myself speak before my brain catches up. “So fucking bad,” I say in a rush. “Yes, please. I want to fuck your mouth. Please, Colt.”
He draws back, his smoky blue eyes suddenly guarded, and I realize I fucked up. Of course he doesn’t want to suck my dick. I forced him the first time—the only time—he’s done that to me. Which I now know was his first experience with a guy.
“Unless…Unless you don’t do that,” I say. “Which is totally fine. We can do something else.”
“Duke.” He stares down into my eyes, his free hand fisting my hair. “I want to suck your cock.”
“Okay,” I say, my voice strangled.
He sits back on his knees, crawling off me. “Get undressed. I want to see you.”
I sit up, peeling off my shirt without hesitation. His eyes catch on the scar burned into my chest—the word “DOLL,” which, in his small town, meant I belonged to their family. Even though the brand was a punishment, and he didn’t burn it into me, I secretly liked it, even then, when we were enemies. For me, it always meant I belonged to him, even if he didn’t know it.
“Those too,” he says, nodding at my open jeans.
I stand and drop them, then straighten, watching him while I wrap my fingers around my cock. It stands straight up to my belly button, and I give it a few tugs, watching the way he gulps, the way his pupils are blown with desire at the sight of my bare body, of me touching myself.
I move to the foot of the bed where he kneels, but when he reaches for me, I push his hands away.
“Now you,” I say, taking hold of the bottom of his shirt. I drag it up, over his rippled abs and his pierced nipples, over hishead. My gaze rakes over his chest, his arms completely encased in sleeves of tattoos, the ink swirling with hidden messages I want to decode over a thousand nights in this bed.
I undo his belt, sliding it free and dropping it to the floor behind me, the buckle knocking against the heated tile underfoot. I can’t look away, can’t take my eyes off him. I undo his button, watching his face, his lips parted slightly, the rapid breaths shuddering through him when I lower his zipper.
He rises onto his knees for me, and I push down his jeans. His cock springs free, thick and pierced with four metal studs around the crown. Saliva floods my tongue, and I have to force myself to swallow. Our clothes discarded, we just look for a minute, drinking each other in with our eyes, the moment too weighted to be rushed. When I can’t bear it any longer, I crawl back onto the bed with him, my hand reaching for his cock, my mouth for his mouth.
Kneeling there on the bed, I kiss him slow and deep, my tongue finding a rhythm with his, my hand dragging over his length. He pulls me in tighter, gripping me at the same time, his hand pumping up and down my shaft. After a minute, it’s too much. I draw back, turning him to the window again. I bury my face in his neck, breathing him in, nipping at the juncture between his neck and shoulder.
He groans, leaning back into me. I run my hand down his chest, thumbing his nipple piercings as I push my cock against his ass. He arches back and turns his head, seeking my lips again.
“Look at that view,” I murmur against his neck, gripping his chin and turning his face forward again. “I knew you’d like it. I made this all for you. It’s your empire too.”
I pull his face around then, letting him have my mouth again. My tongue slides against his, and I grip his cock, mystroke slow and firm. Precum oozes from his slit, coating my hand.
