Page 40 of How Much For a Life of Lies?

“Bedroom?” I asked, hesitant and a little lost.

He stepped back, his erection obscene in his loose sweats, mine not much better despite being held back by denim, given I wasn’t ready for bed. “Do we have… y’know…”

I straightened and answered his question with as much confidence as I could. “Bathroom, top drawer, in the med kit. I’m doing a final sweep. I’ll see you there.”

He let go of my hand, one finger at a time, as if he were reluctant to release me. “You won’t change your mind?” he asked after a pause.

“No.”

He left in his search for condoms and lube, and I checked surveillance, doors, and windows and then headed for the main bedroom. Standing on the opposite side of the bed, he tossed the supplies on the quilt.

“Negative, PrEP, vers,” he murmured.

“Negative, PrEP, I mostly top, but…”

“I’m good with that, you cocky fucker,” Kai said with a cautious smile.

I stripped offmy holster and weapon, shirt, jeans, and underwear, and all the while, he stood and watched. Only when I was naked, kneeling in the middle of the bed, did he take off his T-shirt and sweats and then join me. I kissed him hungrily, hell, I needed him now. I ran my hands over his shoulders and down his back, smoothing a path to his ass, where I stopped and kneaded the flesh, staring into his eyes and watching his reaction.

“Stop teasing,” Kai demanded, reaching for me, and cradling my face. “Just do it already.”

I pulled back, and he chased me for the touch, but if I did what he said if I pushed him back on the bed and fucked him, then this would be over in minutes, and after all this time, I wanted slow and steady.

“Who’s in charge?” I asked him, and I could see his fight, the need to take control, and how he clenched his fists. “Lie down.”

He stared at me as if he were going to argue, and then he grumbled and lay on his back, his hands closing around his beautiful cock as he arched up into the touch. I caged him, one hand on either side of his head.

“And?” he asked, cocky.

“Hands above your head,” I ordered and then waited, just a breath from a kiss, as he battled his need to argue with his desire to get off. More grumbling, but he let go of himself and placed his hands on the pillow, before lacing his fingers. “Good boy,” I murmured.

He scowled, but I kissed the reaction away, and he never moved his hands. For sex, he could do what he was told, and I was here for that. I gripped his jaw, tilting his head to deepen the kiss, and he whimpered as I pressed my body to his, slotted myself between his legs, and rutted against his hard cock.

“Tell me you want this,” I demanded, and he ignored me, kissed me, wriggled. “Tell me.”

He opened his eyes, temper sparking in their blue depths. “I want this,” he snarled. “Get on with it, Frogman.”

There was my guy, the spitfire, the temper and need. I groaned into the kiss, running my hands down his side, easing away so I could kiss from his throat to each nipple, sucking and nibbling until he shuddered. He arched into the attention, but I didn’t linger, kissing down his obliques, finding the V, and nudging his hard cock with my nose. He stiffened, and his cock bobbed as he moved.

“Suck me!” he ordered.

I gave him one of my chuckles, loving it when he cursed and demanded but didn’t move his hands. I worshipped every inch of him around there, laved at his balls, pressed my finger glistening with lube to his hole, imagined licking him from the tip of his cock to his throat, and had to press the heel of my hand to my cock. I wouldn’t last long enough to fuck him if I came too soon, and I was determined to be inside him. I swirled my tongue around the head of his cock, but didn’t suck him lower, moving back each time he tried to thrust, and pressed a finger in, all my focus on making this good for him.

He tried to push down on my finger, and I smacked his thigh, feeling him shudder, putting that reaction away for another day.

“Stay still, let me open you,” I demanded, and he moaned again. I was getting high from the noises he made, from curses to whimpers, and when I pushed a second finger in, tapping his prostate, I leaned up to watch his reaction, saw him close his eyes, his mouth falling open, his belly tensing, and his cock hard and spit-shiny on his belly.

Beautiful.

“On your front,” I said, my fingers slipping free, and he moved fast, still lacing his fingers, and on all fours, widening his legs. “Jesus, is there any part of you that isn’t pretty?” It was a rhetorical question, but it earned me another groan.

“Please!” he begged.

I could have made him wait longer, but I needed him, I wanted him, and I dripped more lube on his ass, pushed my fingers inside, adding a third, the muscle loose, and then pressed the tip of my cock to his hole. “Ready.”

He snarled. “I was ready ten minutes ago.” That earned a smack on the ass, which made him whimper with need.

I pushed in and waited for the muscles to relax and for him to let me in. Then, slowly, I was inside. I sat back on my heels, bringing him with me. I loved this position, going so deep and feeling the burn in my muscles. He linked his hands around my head, turning his face for a sloppy and perfect kiss as I began to move. Then the kisses became nothing but me feeling his breath on my skin, and then nothing when he bowed his head.

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