Page 42 of Offside

Receiving pleasure from him without giving back felt more exposed than being naked. My body wanted to take over, roll him beneath me, prove I could give as much as I got.

The shoulder wouldn't let me today.

"Don't stop," I said.

His hand tightened at the base while his mouth worked the head. My hips lifted once. He followed, taking me deeper, and the control went out of my body in a rush.

"Declan. I'm going to—"

He kept his mouth on me. I came with my hand in his hair. He swallowed, then stayed there through the last pulse, one hand resting on my thigh. When he lifted his head, his mouth was wet. The sight of it made my cock twitch against my stomach.

"Good?" he asked.

"Fuck, yes." I laughed, breathless, pulling him up with my left hand. I tasted myself on his tongue when I kissed him. "Come here."

He settled beside me, still dressed from the waist down, hard enough that the fabric strained.

"You don't have to," he said when I ran a finger along the ridge in his pants.

"I know."

"Colt."

"I'm not paying you back." I held his gaze. "I want you in my mouth." I put my hand on his waistband. "Can I?"

His breath changed. "Colt." He struggled to get my name out. "God, yes."

I opened his jeans and pushed them down with his briefs. His cock sprang free, thick and flushed at the head. I wrapped my left hand around him and felt the heat through my palm.

"I haven't done this before. Tell me what you like."

"Your hand first."

I stroked him. He coached me with words instead of guiding with his hands over mine.

"Slower. More pressure at the base. Yes." His voice dropped almost to a growl. "Yes."

His words went through me. I shifted onto my left side, keeping the right arm supported against my body, and lowered my mouth to him. I'd thought about this in the truck—after Mackenzie. I'd imagined his hands, then his mouth; then what it would mean to put my own mouth on his body.

The first taste was warm salty skin. I opened wider and took the head onto my tongue. Declan made a rough sound above me.

"Still yes?" I asked.

"More. Yes."

I took more. I learned the angle by watching his body. His stomach tightened when I drew my tongue along the underside. His hand closed on the sheet when I added my fist at the base. I couldn't take all of him without losing the rhythm, so I didn't try. Mouth and hand together worked better.

"Like this?"

"Exactly."

His hand came to the back of my neck, but stopped before touching.

"Can I?"

I nodded. His fingers settled into my hair. He didn't direct me. He held on. I took him deeper, drew back, and felt his hips tense under my palm.

"Colt." His voice broke on my name. "I'm close."