Page 187 of The Protective Gryphen

ANYTHING.

“Since you’re not hungry, then maybe we should start our arrangement. Come here, Mr. Patterson,” he said, his voice thick with lust.

Ian didn’t hesitate.

He got up, and moved toward him, unsure what he’d planned. Oh, he knew it would be spectacular.

Call it a hunch.

“On your knees, Mr. Patterson, and pleasure me with your mouth,” he said, staring into his eyes. “We’ll start with you sucking my cock.”

Ian’s heart raced.

“My Lord.”

He stared at him with an emotionless look, and it made Ian go to his knees before him. Once there, he put his hands on his kilt covered thighs, and this was going to be the highlight of his sexual experiences.

How the man knew this was what he craved?

Ian didn’t know.

But he did.

God.

He wanted this more than anything.

Ian would never forget the night Gryphen used him, and they shared something so amazing.

“I hope you’re as good as I think you’re going to be,” he said.

“I promise to please you, my Lord,” he said, sliding his hands up Gryphen’s thighs, taking the Marine blue kilt with them. As they revealed his legs, eventually, it revealed something even more.

And this was why Scottish men went commando under their kilts.

Easy access.

As he saw his erection, a little gasp escaped him. Gryphen was three days past hard. It appeared their little game of cat and mouse, plus the alcohol, was going to equal one thing.

A night of insane pleasure.

“My Lord,” he said, looking up at him.

“Mr. Patterson, make me cum. Since food didn’t fill your belly, my cum will.”

Ian went harder than he’d ever been in his life at the game they were playing.

With need, he touched Gryphen’s erection, and it bobbed.

There was precum on the tip, and instead of just blowing him, Ian gave him what he needed.

What he wanted.

The chase.

With the tip of his tongue, he slid it through the bead of precum, swirling it around.

Gryphen moaned.

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