Page 66 of Sweet Like Whiskey

But with Ash’s cheek pressed to my bed, his gaze holding mine and every piece of him bared easily and without reservation, I find myself struggling for air. It’s a tight, hot thing in my chest, the pain of it welcome, the relief and bliss nearly bringing me to my knees.

It’spossibility, that’s what it is. It’s the chance at something I long assumed gone. Extinguished.

I didn’t think I’d want this again. Butfuck, how I want it.

Him.

It’s him I want.

My legs are steady as I walk forward, and Ash tracks me with his eyes. He makes a small sound of surprise when I stop beside the top of the bed and grab my pillows. I ease them under his hips before climbing behind him and skating my hand over the small of his back. When I give him a gentle push, he takes the hint, settling his weight onto the pillows.

“I want you comfortable,” I tell him, my body buzzing as I run my fingertips along the swell of his ass. “’Cause I’m gonna take my time.”

“Fucking hell, Jack,” he pants.

“Mm.”

Ash groans when I skim my fingers down the crease of his ass. He’s hairless there. Trimmed neatly along the base of his dick. His balls are shaved smooth, and I pull them into my hand, thebacks of my fingers brushing his cock. The sight of it pressed against the pillows has my gut clenching.

“Should have known,” Ash says.

I leave a kiss on his ass cheek, running my nose along his skin before doing the same to the other side. “What’s that?”

“That you’d”—he huffs a small breath as I lick the top of his ass—“be a giver.”

I hum, slowly working my tongue lower.

“Are you going to make me beg?” he asks.

“No,” I say, swiping my tongue over his hole once before blowing. “Not make you.”

“You’ll just enjoy the soundtrack then?” he says, groaning when I flick my tongue. “Please, Jack.”

My name, hoarse on his lips, has my eyes slipping shut. Taking hold of his ass, I lean in and drag my tongue over his rim. He lets out a whispery breath, and I do it again and again, wanting to draw more of those sounds out of his throat. He goes slack as I work him open, his body pliant and his position keeping him at my disposal.

“Jesus, Jack,” he says, voice gravelly as I edge my tongue inside his body. “That’s so fucking good.”

The praise is simple but searing in its intensity, lighting up the long-darkened corners of my chest. I groan as I work him over harder, desperate to make him feel good. Desperate to make him come for me. My fingertips indent into the meat of his ass as I bury myself between his cheeks, wetting him, licking and flicking, my tongue dragging the most perfect sounds out of the man now humping my pillows.

“Jack. I need—fuck. Need you in me.”

“Am,” I say before tonguing him again.

He huffs what might be a laugh. “Yourdick. You wanted to fuck me, right?”

“After you come,” I tell him, slipping a finger inside his body.

Ash lets out a stuttered moan, pushing back against the digit. The glide is smooth, his muscles relaxed, my spit aiding the way. I have to close my eyes at the feel of him, so silky and warm. I nuzzle my nose against his ass cheek as I fuck him with my finger, my dick aching.

“Jack,” Ash says, tone trembling, “I’m trying to be patient, but I’m only human. And you feel—fuck.”

His words dissolve into a moan as I remove my finger and tongue him roughly, pushing myself as deep as I can go.

“Jack, please,” he says.

I can’t deny him. I tug one of the pillows out of the way and wrap my hand around his cock as Ash transfers his weight to his knees. He pushes back against my mouth, his breath ragged now as I stroke him swiftly.

“Oh God, oh God,” tumbles out of his mouth as his legs start to quake. “Gonna—”

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