Page 122 of Best Served Cold

He grinned and snapped the elastic again. “You did. Admit it.”

“Maybe.”

He circled his hips. His bare cock slid against mine. “Good boy.”

I pinned him with a flat look. He laughed.

My chest squeezed at how open and genuine that laugh was. How it completely transformed his entire demeanor and softened his features. It made him look young and carefree and so damn happy.

I was falling for him.

Not wanting him to see how affected I was, I grasped both our cocks and stroked.

His mouth went slack and his eyes widened.

“What do you want?” I asked, my voice a broken rasp from how turned on I was.

“You.” He rolled his hips and let his head fall back against the door.

“You want me to suck you? Or eat you out? Tell me what you want, Zane.”

He opened his mouth but no sound came out. Frustration clouded his features.

I’d noticed Zane had issues with communicating his needs, or just talking in general. Asking him candid questions was probably tripping him up.

Taking a different approach, I jacked us hard and fast, being far rougher than I normally would. This wasn’t about getting us close, this was about overwhelming him with pleasure so he forgot all about every girl he’d ever made scream.

“I want to tongue you. Can I?” I asked in a throaty voice.

He nodded vigorously, his chest heaving as hot breaths sawed out of him.

“Turn around.”

He dropped his leg from my waist and spun shakily. I shackled his wrists and placed them against the door near his head. “Don’t. Fucking. Move.”

He shuddered and spread his legs as much as he could with his jeans around his thighs.

Dropping to my knees, I split him open. He made a quiet sound but didn’t clench.

Knowing he trusted me enough to do this for him, to see him in such a vulnerable state, meant way more to me than it should have.

Not thinking too closely about what I was doing, I leaned in and licked his hole.

“Fuck!” He rocked against the door. “Jesus.”

I did it again, letting my instincts take over as I stabbed and speared and licked him, using his cries and the way he pushed back against my mouth as a guide to give him the most pleasure possible.

“Don’t,” he gasped when I gripped his cock. He shoved my hand away. “Too close. Gonna come.”

“Fuck that’s hot.” I stood and pressed him against the wall. “Want my fingers?”

“Yeah.” He laid his cheek against the door. “Do it.”

I dug my wallet out of my pocket and opened the billfold. “Shit.”

“What?”

“I didn’t replace the supplies we used.” I dropped my forehead on his shoulder. “I don’t even have lube.”