Page 53 of Serving Bunt

I groaned into his mouth just thinking about how it would bounce when I spread him wide, when I stripped him down, bent him over, and—

“Bed,” I hissed against his lips.

I hooked my arms under his thighs and lifted him clean off the floor. He yelped with delight, circling his thighs around my waist.

“Goddamn, Alabama,” he breathed. “You gonna manhandle me all night?”

“Maybe,” I said.

“Works for me.”

I smiled against his lips and lowered us to the mattress. He moved before I could come down on top of him, rolling until I was laid flat and he straddled my hips.

“Save a horse, ride a cowboy?” he suggested cheekily.

“We’ve been over this. I’m a farmer.”

“Two sides of the same tractor.”

He leaned down and kissed me again, the slow, filthy roll of his hips matching every thrust of his tongue. The friction was maddening, every drag sending sparks up my spine. My fingers dug into his ass, encouraging his pace.

“Already hard for me, tesoro?”

“God, Peter.” I groaned. “I’ve been hard for you all night.”

“Fuck,” he growled against my throat. “I love it when you say my name.”

I nearly came in my pants when he bit down.

“Peter.”

I thrust up to meet him, but it was a losing battle. I might’ve had a few inches on him, but Diaz was denser, more muscular, the kind of strength built from years of explosive movements on the field and hours in the weight room. He pinned me easily, hips grinding down with purpose.

I guess that’s what I get for skimping on leg day.

We kissed for hours, or at least that’s what it felt like. Truthfully, I could’ve just gone on like this all night, but he had other plans.

Eventually, he sat back on his heels, dragging me with him until we were both sitting up. His hands went to the hem of my shirt.

“Arms up,” he ordered softly.

I obeyed without thinking, helping him peel the fabric off in one smooth tug. He tossed my shirt aside, then dragged both palms down my torso.

“You’re fucking gorgeous, Matty,” he murmured.

Before I could come up with a response, his hands dropped to my belt. He took his time, hooking his index fingers under the leather, brushing his thumbs back and forth across the metal buckle in a deliberate slide. When it finally clinked open, the sound sent a fresh bolt of heat straight to my cock.

But then, he paused.

“I know you’ve never been with another man, so I’m going to need you to tell me where your head is at,” he said softly. His eyes searched mine in the low light. “How far do you want to take this?”

The gentleness in his tone nearly undid me.

“I want you,” I admitted, my voice shaky.

He rocked against my cock, smiling when I moaned. “I can tell. But—”

“But I’m not ready for . . . you know.”