I can practically feel him smile; his mouth is so close to the tip.
The muscles in my stomach tense.
He takes my hard, pulsing cock into his mouth, and his tongue swirls around the head before sliding down the length as far as it can.
“Oh, fuck!” I groan and swivel my hips up against his mouth. His hands grab my thighs and his fingers dig into my flesh.
Alek works my length from head to base, swallowing my cock partially down his throat with no effort at all, and it makes my head spin.
The ridges on the roof of his mouth massage the top of my length so perfectly that my eyes nearly roll back in my head.
All I can get out of my mouth is a grunting moan as I feel my dick throb harder, faster, and his tongue dips into the small hole at the tip.
The way he takes all of me into his mouth and throat is beyond exhilarating. Every small thrust of my hips makes my injured body ache, and the sweat dripping down my hairline into the cuts on my cheeks sting, but I don’t fucking care.
“Yes, fuck… yes,” I gasp out my words between panting breathes.
He works me so good, as though it’s the only thing that matters on this entire earth. Bringing me pleasure. His mouth feels like heaven, and the gentle moans that escape his throat and vibrate along my length are bliss.
I can’t hold back, even though I want to. I want this to last; I want to feel his mouth around me for as long as possible; but I’m a slave to the natural urges of my body.
My entire body goes tight as I cum into his mouth with several rough shaky thrusts of my hips. He pulls back his head just in time for the cum to coat his tongue rather than shoot into the back of his throat.
I feel Alek lick me up, from base to tip, as a little bit more cum oozes out of my head. He swallows me down and then kisses my cock softly.
I realize as my body starts to relax, that there’s tears in my eyes.
Alek slides up my body and onto the small bed. I feel him press against the side of me, his own erection still hard in his pants and against my hip.
“I don’t deserve you,” I whisper, my eyes stinging.
Alek places a hand on my cheek. “That’s the stupidest fucking thing I’ve ever heard, Tommy.” He’s slightly breathless.
I chuckle weakly and look into his eyes as he looks into mine. His fingers slide down to my jawline. “Shouldn’t I help you?” I ask him.
Alek shakes his head. “No…you need to rest,” he says. “This was about you.”
I sigh, my entire body feeling limp on the bed, and my eyelids heavy.
“For now,” I whisper. “Next time…I’m going to worship you.”
16
ALEK
Ican’t help but watch Tommy as he sleeps. In part because he looks so remarkably peaceful, but also because there’s a part of me that’s worried something is going to happen to him. I feel like any second someone could come in and try to kill him, both of us. Maybe someone did see what happened in the alleyway and the news of my undercover gig with the Bianchis is out in the breeze and they’re looking for me.
It’s been almost seven hours, though, so I don’t think my cover has been broken. I would know about it by now. I think.
I’m doubting myself, and I wonder if it has anything to do with the man pressed up against me in the small bed. If my attachment to him is detrimental to doing my job.
No. It makes me better at my job. The way I fought those guys in the alley was quick and efficient. More brutal than usual, though, I realize.
I feel Tommy stir against me and I brush my fingers along his side idly. I haven’t slept in the same bed as someone in years, much less watched as they slept and wondered what they were dreaming about.
Guilt makes my throat tight, but I try to push it down. Maybe she would want me to move on. I don’t feel likemove onis quite the right pair of words. How does someone move on from the death of his wife?
Regardless, I’m here right now lying pressed up against Tommy and feeling every single breathe he takes. The fact that he’s still breathing is because of me, and that makes something prideful well up in my chest.
