Page 72

He stared at me for a long beat, his mouth twisting. “Maybe not,” he conceded. “But I am an expert on fucking around with straight boys until they decide they’re done with me.”

“I’m. Not. Fucking. Straight!” I growled, throwing my leg over his hips to straddle him. I pressed my weight down into his lap and speared my free hand into his hair, tugging his head back and smashing my mouth against his.

It was like kissing a wall.

“Kiss me, goddamnit,” I said against his mouth.

I kissed him again, licking at the same of his lips.

Cally didn’t react at first, but when I did it a second time, he groaned, a long, low, needy sound slipping free, and mouth opened.

Our tongues tangling, my hips rolled against him on instinct, no thought behind it at all except “yes” and “more” and “finally.”

This.

This was what I’d been waiting for.

His mouth. My mouth.

Fuck.

I was full on humping him now, and I realized that at some point—without me being aware of it happening—he’d let go of my wrist and had planted both of his hands on my waist, holding me down and guiding me over him, his hips coming up to meet mine.

“I want you so bad,” I murmured, sliding my hand between us to fumble with the tie at his waist.

When it was loose, I slid my hand inside and gripped him tight before stroking upward, my thumb dragging over the head of his cock and rubbing over his slit.

“Fuck, Mikey.”

“Do you know how bad I’ve wanted to kiss you?” I spoke the words against his mouth.

“I know.” His lips brushed against mine, his hips rocking forward to push his cock through my fist.

“You kept distracting me with this.” I squeezed again.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered into my mouth, his breath becoming my breath.

“I’m not. I fucking love your cock.”

“Do you dream about it?” he teased.

“That’s all I dream about,” I told him, licking into him for a quick, sloppy kiss, using my tongue in his mouth like I wanted to use it against his dick.

I pulled away, practically whining, “Let me blow you. Please.”

Cally’s fingers tangled in my curls and he yanked my head back so he could see my face. “You really want to do that?”

I groaned. “Fuck. Yes. So much.”

“You’re not just saying that because of what I just told you?”

I rubbed my thumb over his slit again, gathering up the moisture there, then pulled my hand out of his pants to lick it away, the taste slightly salty and a little bit sweet on my tongue. My eyes dropped closed, and I moaned, savoring it.

I’d tasted my own cum before, so I sort of knew what to expect, but Cally’s tasted like him, and I wanted to fill my whole mouth up with it.

“Fuck that guy,” I said, remembering he’d asked me a question, then shoved my hand back inside his pants to pull him out.

I dragged my eyes away from his pretty cock to look at him, hoping he could see in my expression what this meant to me. What he meant to me. “Please let me suck you, C. I want it so bad.”