Page 56 of Virgin Skin

Milo shakes his head.

“I didn’t think so.” I chuckle, hooking my fingers in the waistband and yanking it down.

His cock springs free and I don’t waste a second, wrapping my lips around his crown and sucking him down in a greedy slurp. He digs his fingers into the edge of the chair, moaning loudly as his cock fills my throat.

“Wait,” he gasps.

I freeze with my lips wrapped around his base.

“Come here.” He pulls one hand off the chair and uses it to tug on my shirt.

His cock throbs and twitches on my tongue, spilling more sticky precum for me to lap up. I drag my lips off him slowly and clamber to my feet like he asked. His hands quake as he fumbleswith the buttons on my jeans. Our mouths find each other again, our lips falling into a hungry rhythm. He strokes his tongue over mine, groaning. As soon as he gets my jeans open, he tugs my underwear down enough to free my cock too. It sways heavily between us, thick and hard and desperate to get closer to him.

“I don’t know why, but I’ve been thinking about this all day,” he murmurs against my mouth, sinking his fingers into my ass cheeks and yanking me against him.

I moan around his tongue as our cocks collide, slick from my spit. My piercing catches against his cockhead, sending ripples of pleasure down my shaft to settle in my balls. Milo snaps his hips, finding a frantic rhythm that matches the desperation in our kiss. Our hands grope greedily and our tongues tangle and slide against each other.

“This is what you’ve been thinking about all day?” I ask gruffly in between hard, biting kisses. “Your cock against mine, your precum leaking all over me, your taste on both our tongues?”

He whimpers and nods. “Yes,” he gasps.

The sound of his laughter earlier, the way that asshole looked at him like he might have a chance, linger in the front of my mind, making every touch a little rougher. I suck his bottom lip between my teeth and lap up every muffled, horny sound he feeds me, because I fucking earned them. They’re mine and no one else can have them.He’smine.

Milo leans into my chair, wrapping his legs around my waist for better leverage. The pressure of his hard cock against mine is so fucking perfect I can hardly breathe. Our balls sway and collide with every thrust.

When the saliva on his cock dries up, I break the kiss and spit into my hand, reaching between us to wrap my fingers around our shafts. Milo grunts and groans, breathing harder with everystroke, his legs trembling around me, his eyes going glassy and unfocused.

“Fuck, Piston,” he pants.

The pleasure in his glazed expression settles into that primal spot in my chest, twisting the heat in my gut tighter and tighter.

“Give it to me, Mi. Your orgasm is mine and I fucking want it.” I flick my thumb against the head of his cock and bite down on his bottom lip and he convulses in my arms.

His skin flushes and his face twists. I can feel the way his balls draw up tight against mine and his cock stiffens, the veins in his shaft swelling and throbbing. I fuck faster into my hand, dragging my cock against his with every thrust. Milo lets out a strangled cry and unleashes a flood of hot, sticky cum, coating my fingers and running down my cock.

I roar and slam my mouth back into his, grinding against him as my orgasm washes over me, dragging me right over the edge with him. My cum joins his in making a mess out of both of us, covering our cocks and soaking my fingers.

I pant into his mouth, the movements of our tongues slowing as the pulses of pleasure ebb and finally fade.

I sag against Milo, our lips still bumping in a not-quite-kiss. The shape of his sated smile makes my heart stutter and isalmostenough to outshine the fresh wave of guilt that churns inside of me. My ears are ringing in the sudden silence, which Milo breaks with a breathless chuckle.

I brace myself for his inevitable questions.

What does this mean?

Are we going to keep doing this?

Can I sleep in your bed again?

“Hey, Piston?” he says softly.

I grunt, reaching over to grab the roll of paper towel off of my cart to clean us up.

“Do you want to order pizza for dinner when we get home?”

My brain screeches to a halt and I turn the question over in my head a few times, looking for a hidden meaning and not finding any. Is he going to just let this be? Without any questions? Without asking me to justify breaking my own rule to confine whatever this is to our time snowed in?

Fuck. I need that. I need to justnottalk about this, to not think about what I’m doing, because if I think about it, I’ll have to deal with it, to confess or end things. And I just… can’t. I can’t deal with any of it.

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