Page 82 of Angel

“We’re not done just yet, big guy.” He stands and spins to face the pole again, but this time, he doesn’t just grip it with both hands. He hauls himself up on it, pinching the pole between his thighs and crossing one calf over the other.

He glances over his shoulder, eyes dark and enticing, lips puffy from the blowjob. “Come here, fuck me.”

I stumble forward until I’m pressed against that gorgeous back. I nuzzle his hair, then brush it out of the way so I can get to his neck. He tilts his head to give me more access and I lick a stripe from his shoulder to his ear. Salty. Delicious.

Somehow, Rhys has managed to position himself at the exact right height for my dick to slip inside him. It’s awkward with him suspended on the pole, but we manage. Then he leans back, letting me take all his weight, resting his head on my shoulder.

He reaches up to grip the back of my neck, and my arms wrap around him, hands covering as much of his skin as I can. The smooth softness is a thin layer over hard muscles. I flick his nipples, grazing my thumb over the tiny, stiff nubs. Rhys trembles, caught precariously between me and the pole. He’s got nowhere to go, no leverage to move. He’s completely at my mercy.

The rush of power is no match for the sense of humility that floors me. Not for the first time, I have to marvel at how lucky, how blessed I am to have met Rhys, to have him in my life. I bury my face into his neck as gratitude almost brings me to my knees.

We don’t stay in this position for more than a couple minutes, just enough time for Sebastian to get shots of Rhys’s dragon-dick sticking up into the air. My movements are restricted when I’m holding so much of Rhys’s weight and he can only grip the pole with his thighs for so long.

I hold him gingerly until he gets his feet back on the floor, but the next position seems just as precarious as the last.

Rhys rests his back against the pole and reaches up to grip it above his head. He lifts his legs into a V, boot-encased feet and calves in the air, pointing down to his dragon-dick and his glistening hole.

I step forward, fit myself back into his body, only to go a little berserk when he rests his legs on my shoulders. My vision goes a little blurry and my hips snap forward. His feet, his boots. They’re within licking distance. Within biting distance. I turn my head to rub my cheek against the straps encircling his calf, and a violent shudder runs through me.

“Oh, fuck,” Rhys mutters.

With my hands on his bum to help support his weight, I let my hips fly.

“I’m not going to last long,” Rhys warns.

I’m not going to either. Rhys’s tight heat around my dick. The heady sensation of his booted feet on either side of my head. The sight of him bent in half, pinned helplessly between me and the pole. It all feels too good. Too much. I’m strung out. Right on the brink.

I sink my teeth into the plastic leather of Rhys’s boot, and breathe in the scent of it as it mingles with the smell of sex around us. My balls swing freely through the air, so heavy and full of the cum that I want to pump into Rhys’s body.

“Fuck! Fuck! Right there! Yes, just like that. Just like that!”

I hammer away at Rhys’s button as hard as I can, his body twitching every time I hit it. Then suddenly he’s coming. His hole clamps impossibly tight around my dick, his body goes taut, and creamy white cum shoots out of the dragon’s mouth, decorating Rhys’s beautifully tanned and sweaty skin.

I don’t dare stop, maintaining my rhythm and waiting for Rhys to give me permission to come too. “Rhys…” I whine, nuzzling his calf for comfort as the rest of my body is bursting at the seams.

“Yes, come for me, Angelo. Fill me up.”

With a roar, I slam into him, emptying my cum into his hole until I’m completely drained. The room spins around me and my vision goes white. I don’t know how I’m still on my feet.

Fingers touch my lips and I automatically open to let them in. The taste of Rhys’s cum explodes on my tongue. I swallow down every drop he feeds to me, sucking every finger clean before I let it go.

When I finally soften enough to slip out of Rhys’s bum, I drop to my knees and turn him around by his hips. I pull his cheeks apart and dive in, licking up the cum leaking out of him. Every trickle. Every spurt he pushes out. I go digging into his hole with my tongue to make sure I haven’t missed a single drop.

Somehow I end up flat on my back, staring up into the bright lights around the stage. A warm body drapes itself over me and a soft, pliant mouth molds itself to my lips.

Rhys kisses me, soft and tender. The contrast to what we just did makes me shudder with an aftershock. I moan into the kiss, silently repeating the words that I don’t have the courage to say out loud just yet.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

CHAPTER

TWENTY-NINE

RHYS

This might be the best and worst shoot I’ve ever done. It was really fucking hot and from the expression on Sebastian’s face, it’s clear that he’s pleased with the results. But I’m wrecked by the time Sebastian yells cut.

Physically, it was demanding. I’ve never been fucked on the pole quite like that. Pro tip: don’t try this at home.

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