Page 68 of The Little Shop of Curiosities, The Music Box Part 2

“Sam,” he whines, and I smile, nuzzling his balls before licking a stripe up the centre to the base of his cock, and I’m rewarded when he sighs and spreads his legs wider. I keep going until I reach the tip, then suckle the head and swirl my tongue beneath his foreskin before dipping into the slit.

He gasps and his hand slides under the covers to tangle in my hair. Slowly, I drag his foreskin back and slip his cock further into my mouth.

God, he’s so hard, and the taste of him—I can’t get enough.

I settle further onto my stomach and hook his legs over my shoulders. Wrapping my hands under his hips, I pull him closer and swallow him deeper. I start a lazy glide up and down his dick until his legs tremble and he unconsciously rocks his hips. Finally, when he can’t take any more, he gasps.

“Sam, I’m going to⁠—”

I tighten the hot, wet suction of my mouth and he cries out, his cock pulsing against my tongue as he floods my mouth with the salty taste of him.

Boneless, his body melts into the bed, and he groans, then laughs.

I kiss my way back up his body until I reappear from under the covers to find him smiling at me.

He cups my face in his warm palms. One of his fingertips slowly traces the scar from the corner of my eye down my cheekbone. His expression is serious, but there’s a softness to his eyes.

“I didn’t expect you,” he murmurs, and I know he’s not talking about me returning from my trip. The truth is, when I first moved to London, I didn’t expect to meet someone like him either.

He draws me in and kisses me deeply, his tongue sliding into my mouth, and I sink deeper into the thrall he has me in.

I’m in very serious danger of being completely owned by this man, and the hell of it is, he doesn’t even know.

Breathing hard, I pull back and rest my forehead against his, watching as he licks his lips.

“You taste of me,” he whispers, and my aching dick gives a helpless throb at his words.

“I love having my mouth on you,” I whisper hoarsely.

“You’re very good at it.”

“I live to please you.” I grin.

He snorts. “I very much doubt that.”

Before I can reply, he hooks one of his legs around my calf and rolls me over so he’s on top.

“I believe it’s my turn,” he says impishly, and disappears under the covers.

Fucking hell. It takes an embarrassingly short time for him to absolutely wreck me in the best possible way. By the time he’s done with me, I’m gasping in desperately needed air and have come so hard my head is spinning.

“I think I’m getting better at this,” he says conversationally.

“Are you kidding?” I wheeze. “I just damn near had a religious experience.”

He laughs and crawls up my body, laying down on top of me so every inch of our bodies touch. He folds his hands over my chest and rests his chin on them as he looks up at me.

“This is how we recruit all newcomers. Welcome to paganism.”

The laugh rumbles through my chest. Rocking his body against me, he smiles.

“I could get used to waking up this way,” he murmurs as I twirl a lock of his beautiful red hair around my finger.

“So could I,” I admit quietly.

For a few seconds, we just lie there, contentedly watching each other, in no rush to move.

“What are your plans for the day?” he eventually asks.