Page 115 of Maybe You

I snort out a laugh and fist my own dick for a second to get a moment of relief.

“Will you fuck me?” I say.

He goes comically still, eyes wide and careful as he takes me in.

“Right now?” he asks.

I shrug as casually as I can, which is not very.

“Unless you require fucking to be scheduled a few weeks beforehand?”

He pinches my thigh in reply, and I jerk in surprise. I cock my brow in question. Or a challenge. I have no idea what I’m doing here.

He still isn’t saying anything, so I roll my eyes.

“I know what I want. So just do it.”

His lips pull into a slow grin.

“Aye-aye, Captain,” he says. And then he’s on me. So quickly, I don’t really even register the movement, but I’m suddenly on my back with Sutton above me.

His eyes are full of determination as he presses a hard kiss to my lips, and before I take another breath, he rolls me over on my stomach. He kisses my shoulder blade and then his lips trail to the nape of my neck.

He lies on top of me, blanketing my whole body. I widen my legs a bit, so his cock slips snugly between my thighs, where it rests against the underside of my balls, silky and warm. Another shiver runs over my spine. His hands rub my shoulders and slide down my sides. It’s like a full body massage that makes me melt into the soft mattress.

He bites the curve of my neck, just above my shoulder, slowly rutting against me from behind until I start to push my ass up to meet him. Sutton reaches out his arm, opens the drawer of his nightstand, and takes out a bottle of lube and condoms.

I’m not nervous. Not exactly. Maybe just not sure if I’ll live up to the expectations. Sutton shifts onto his side on his elbow. His thigh is still thrown over my lower back. The click of the cap sounds very loud in the otherwise quiet room.

When he puts his palm on the small of my back, I jerk in surprise.

His hand stills.

“Okay?” he asks.

I lick my lips and nod.

In response, he trails his palm from my back to the underside of my left ass cheek.

“Spread your legs a little,” he murmurs.

I do as he says. He keeps rubbing my ass cheek until I relax again before he brushes his thumb along the crease between my cheeks.

I swallow, and I’m pretty sure it’s audible.

Sutton’s hand stops moving.

“Keep going,” I say, and it comes off sounding mostly annoyed. At myself, but I’m not so sure it translates.

His hand starts moving again. His fingers stroke between my cheeks. Again.

I’m pretty sure I’m as rigid as a slab of concrete, so that’s clearly sexy.

But Sutton doesn’t seem to be taken aback by my inability to relax. His lips latch on to the nape of my neck again, and he kisses his way down my spine. Light, soft kisses. Like butterfly wings on my skin.

His fingers disappear from my crease for a moment, but then they’re back—wet, this time. He presses the tip of his finger against my opening and circles it. Over and over and over again, with no apparent intent to go any further with the digit. The only thing he does is to turn us both on our sides and push my leg up.

And then he goes back to what he was doing.

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