Page 30 of Untamed Instincts

His breath caught when Noah began to move down Quinton’s body, placing light kisses over his skin, a tender touch of lips, Noah’s hands petting him as his mate moved lower and lower.

It was a crash course in concentrated effort not to come as Noah’s lips trailed down his chest and abs. Quinton gripped the base of his erection to stop it from spurting out his release.

When Noah reached the head of Quinton’s cock, his mate stared up at him with uncertainty in his green eyes.

“Whatever you do is going to feel good,” he reassured Noah, his voice low and rough. “You already have me on the verge of coming. I’m strangling my dick like a son of a bitch to stop it from happening too soon.” He slid the head under Noah’s chin. “See what you do to me?”

The guy smirked, as if that was what he’d needed to hear. Quinton continued to hold the base, captivated as Noah parted his lips and licked his way around the head, lapping up the pre-cum with every stroke of his tongue.

Oh, fuuck.

Quinton lost the ability to think, that darting tongue wiping his mind clean, leaving behind nothing but raw need.

His cock throbbed heavily, pulsing in his fist as Noah sank his mouth down the length. He fucked his mate’s mouth gently, tenderly, running his fingers through his soft, silky hair. “So good, baby. So goddamn good.”

That need to bust a nut intensified. His mate’s hot, eager mouth made him tremble so badly that it shredded his senses and ripped the breath from his lungs.

His cock stretched Noah’s lips, and it was the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen. Quinton slowly pushed on his mate’s head, making it bob up and down, making those gorgeous lips ride his hard shaft.

It was the most incredible feeling in the world. Quinton propped one leg up, planting his foot on the floor, giving his mate more room to drive him insane.

Which was exactly what Noah did. Quinton stroked his cock faster and harder. Fuck, shit. He kept his hand on the back of Noah’s head so his cock stayed wedged in his mate’s tight, greedy mouth.

“I’m about to come,” he growled, gritting his teeth as Noah started sucking harder, that wicked mouth so goddamn amazing. Then he exploded, hot jets of spunk pulsed inside Noah’s incredible mouth.

A hard grunt was pulled out of Quinton as he convulsed. “Eat my cum, baby.”

Best. Orgasm. Ever.

Quinton gently pulled Noah off of his cock when his mate continued sucking him off. “Sensitive,” he said with a hiss.

Noah looked up at him, licking his lips and wearing a proud smile.

With a soft chuckle, Quinton pulled his mate back up his body and reached for Noah’s zipper, but his hand stilled when someone rapped their knuckles on the door like the wood was a set of drums.

Noah jumped up like it was his parents returning home. Quinton rolled to his back and threw his arm over his eyes. “Whoever said kids enrich your life had to be on drugs.”

The apartment was too small to take Noah into the bedroom to give him head. Quinton’s mouth watered to suck Noah off, but damn if he was allowing his sons to hear his mate’s sex noises.

Those were reserved only for him.

Noah ran into the bedroom like his sexy ass had caught on fire, returning a second later with a rumpled sheet. “Since none of my clothes will fit you, this is the best I can do.”

Instead of taking the sheet, Quinton gripped Noah’s chin tenderly then waited until his mate looked at him. “Take a deep breath, hon. You look too wound up.” He placed a soft kiss on Noah’s lips. “I could’ve gotten rid of that frantic energy for you if they’d taken ten more minutes.”

Noah inhaled deeply through his nose then let it out slowly through his mouth. He did it a few more times, causing Quinton to worry he would make himself pass out.

“I’m cool,” Noah said in a calm, serene tone. “Does my breath smell like semen?”

Quinton grinned so wide his damn cheeks hurt. “Let me check.” He kissed Noah again, this time more deeply. When he pulled away, his mate had a dreamy-eyed stare. “Smells amazing to me.”

It smelled just like his seed, and he loved it.

The knock started again. “Room service. I’ve got a 5-star feast here. And I only dropped it twice,” Killian called out.

With a snarl, Quinton stalked to the door and yanked it open.

Killian moved past him, half a dozen large, plastic bags in his hands. The Styrofoam containers were stacked all the way to the handles. The guy stumbled—over what, Quinton had no idea—causing him to lose his grip on one of the bags. It fell toward the floor, but Killian jerked his foot up, smacked the runaway bag with the side of his foot, then hooked his pinky around one of the handles.

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