“Please.”
A low groan forms deep in my chest, and I fist my hand, desperate follow his request. But what if I hurt him? Sure, his cock looks rock-hard, but the skin is soft, and the pearl of precum….
I can’t take my eyes off the bead there. What will he taste like? Feel like in my mouth?
“Please, Boone.” A plea if ever I heard one, but the sound competes with my thundering heartbeat.
I draw in a shaky breath. I hate to ask, but I feel like I should. “Do you want me to change?”
Elias reacts immediately with a snap of his hand to my larger one. The touch has me swallowing hard—his intention clear not only with the fierce look in his eyes but the not-so-gentle tug of my hand toward his cock.
“Your hand on my cock, right here, right now.” He pauses barely an inch away. “If that’s what you want?”
My nod is ridiculously quick, but it’s all he needs as he presses my hand right where we both want it.
Our groans are simultaneous.
He’s hot, hard, and heavy in my palm, and while my hand engulfs his cock, he feels perfect. The perfect size and weight. Just the thought of him inside me, my mouth, my channel that’s already slick from want, makes me shudder.
I’m careful as I move, his shaft pulsing against my skin with the back-and-forth motion.
“Boone.” My name is a gasp, a plea as he jerks his hips. “Tighter.”
I swallow even as I tighten my hold, so very careful to not squeeze too tight.
“Yes, perfect.” A whole-body shudder accompanies his words as he clings to my shoulders.
His “But I want your cock next to mine. Want to touch you, feel you too” makes me lose control.
My body answers before I have time to think. Heat gathers low, familiar and deliberate, and I feel the subtle shift as everything settles into place. My cock, which is usually held close, eases forward, guided by the passage behind it doing what it’s meant to do—warming, preparing, leaving that faint, reassuring slick that coats me with readiness.
When Elias gasps, I look up, but he isn’t watching my face. His focus is on my cock. The intensity of his reaction stills everything else. My body stays steady beneath his gaze, doing exactly what it was made to do—hold, prepare, and not fail him.
When he doesn’t reel back in horror and instead flicks his tongue over his bottom lip, my cock twitches and another gush of lubricant pulses out of the passage that it all but erupted from. The small opening twitches with excitement, just as sensitive and as eager as my dick to be touched.
“Can I?”
His gaze snaps to mine, and I quickly nod, not sure I can manage a single word.
He trails his fingers over my warm, slick skin, and I groan, my stomach muscles pulling taut.
“You’re so perfect.”
I don’t answer as he continues to explore my length.
“You make your own lube.”
This time the tightening in my stomach is hesitation. Is that too weird? Too different?
“That’s so hot.” A smile that he manages to make look positively sinful stretches his lips. “And practical.”
Another moan spills free when he finally grips me. His fingers can’t touch, the girth too much for his human hand.
“And where does the slick come from?” Even as he asks, he starts to explore. When his fingers reach the base of my cock, he hesitates a moment. “Can I?” he asks with a shaky whisper.
I gasp, “Yes,” desperate for him to do just that.
He finds the rim of the opening my cock is usually enclosed in and the small slit underneath my shaft. More slick pulses against his fingers and my length at the touch, right at the gap, and tentatively, he dips a finger past the base of my cock, easing his finger inside.
