Page 41 of Feels Like Home

“Baby, please stop touching me,” Ian gritted out. “I want you too badly, and I’m barely holding on.”

Jace didn’t pull his hand away. He slid it over Ian’s back then over his ass, causing that firestorm to rage wildly.

With a snarl, Ian spun and lifted Jace into his arms, their kiss like a nuclear bomb. He set Jace on the counter. That was more like it. Now Ian’s hands were free. He cupped his mate’s head, claiming Jace’s lips the way he wanted to claim the man’s body.

Jace thrust his tongue inside Ian’s mouth. Like a starving man, Ian sucked on it, delirious with need. Sucking as if his mate’s tongue was his cock, savoring every single goddamn moan spilling out of Jace.

Slim legs curled around Ian’s waist, trying desperately to pull him closer. He went willingly, reeled in by the scent, touch, and taste of heaven.

Jace grasped at Ian’s shoulders, and then his hands tangled in Ian’s long hair, pulling and massaging, fingernails scraping his scalp.

“Fuck me,” Jace begged against Ian’s lips. “Bend me over and pound into my ass.”

Ian yanked Jace off the counter and carried his mate toward the bed. They fell onto the mattress, nothing but limbs and mouths, cocks hard as concrete.

Chapter Twelve

Jace had known the moment he’d agreed to spend the night at Ian’s what would happen. They’d danced achingly slow around each other, exploring Ian’s bedroom at leisure, Jace stalling by questioning Ian’s comparison of his house to who he was inside. The pretense of watching a movie neither of them were interested in.

Now Ian’s muscled body was pressed into Jace’s, his soft but firm lips seizing what the man wanted. There was no hesitation, no holding back.

This was Ian. Wild. Beautiful. Dominant. Staking his claim.

Just as Jace thought he would run out of breath, Ian pulled back, his lips kiss-swollen, gorgeous, moist with Jace’s saliva. They both heaved in breaths, their gazes locked.

Then Ian leaned sideways and dug through the closest drawer, yanking a bottle of lube free. His whiskey eyes were dark, filled with utter yearning. He dropped the bottle onto the bed, curling his fingers around the waistband of Jace’s boxers. His fingers stroked over Jace’s skin, electrifying him as if a live wire had touched him.

As Jace’s underwear slid down, so did Ian. His tousled hair grazed along Jace’s body, silky wisps trailing downward. Blissful torture, one strand at a time.

Ian scraped his teeth, his tongue over sensitive flesh, causing Jace’s stomach muscles to contract and his legs to spread apart. Already he was flying, gripping the bedding in a stranglehold as Ian kissed and licked his way toward Jace’s cock.

The slow, tormenting swirl of the man’s tongue around Jace’s navel caused Jace to moan and Ian to purr. Ian’s hands mapped Jace’s hips, as if learning his body, his fingertips so light that they created goose bumps.

Jace touched, running his hands over Ian’s hair, his sculpted back, broad shoulders, and guns that flexed as if the guy was showing off. Ian’s body pinned Jace to the bed as warm heat surrounded his cock.

“Ian.” Jace gripped the man’s hair, pushing his head downward.

Ian was having none of that. A soft growl rumbled in his throat. He shackled Jace’s wrists and pressed them onto the bed in a display of pure dominance, leaving no doubt who was in control.

Jace had never felt so conquered.

Unable to move his arms, Jace cried out, tugging, but Ian refused to let go. His mouth descended on Jace cock. Suction, a tight pull that had Jace rocking his head back and forth. He couldn’t even see what Ian was doing. His hair created a dark, layered curtain.

Ian’s lips were insatiable, the flat of his tongue an assault on Jace’s senses. “I can’t see,” Jace whined. “Move your hair out of the way.”

Instead of using his hand, which would have freed one of Jace’s, Ian popped off his cock and tossed his head back His tousled mane obeyed Ian’s command, settling to one side to expose his corded neck.

So fucking gorgeous, a bronze, masculine stallion and in control of Jace’s body and heart. Ian dipped back down, watching Jace with smoldering eyes as the tip of his tongue circled the head, flicking teasingly.

Ian released Jace’s wrist and grabbed the lube, his tongue still a torture device. Jace was dying of pleasurable madness.

Two wet fingers glided along his entrance. They pressed inward. Testing. Then they nudged inside, Ian’s gaze never leaving Jace’s. His mouth swallowed Jace’s cock, and there was no holding back the noises, the desperate cries and mewls.

The fingers inside of Jace thrust deeply, thick fingers that stretched him wide. He couldn’t recall if there were still two inside of him or if Ian had added a third. It didn’t matter. Jace rode them, completely consumed by Ian.

By his touch.

By his ability to possess Jace with a simple glance of those whiskey eyes.

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