Page 177 of Wrath

He gets off his barstool, glancing back, and I follow like he's holding an imaginary leash. Fuck, his back and shoulders areripped. I can see the ridges of muscle beneath his black shirt as he moves. His jeans hang on his hips. And what an ass.That body’s made for fucking. Shit, this guy is a walking fantasy.

He leads me into a door and down a dimly lit hall to a closet. In the closet, there's a leather couch.

I sit on it, feeling too drunk to stand. My blood roars in my ears.

He comes between my legs, running his fingers through my hair as his eyelids go heavy.

"Such a pretty boy," he murmurs. His hand trails over my shoulder and down my arm, squeezing my triceps lightly. “What sport?” he asks.

I frown up at him as my heart pounds. “What do you mean what sport?”

He crouches down in front of me, his necklace glinting in the dim light of a lamp as his hand caresses my thigh through my shorts. "I can tell from your calves. You're either in the gymtwice a day, or you're doing sports." He runs a hand over his own calf, which looks as thick as mine does. "These babies are from the gym," he says as his hand caresses my quads. "But I bet you're a real athlete. Am I right?"

His hand moves to the inside of my leg. Then he reaches inside my pants, his fingertips tickling my skin. I groan, spreading my legs.

"Oh so she's got hot from drinking." His smile up at me is pure sin. "That's because you're young, sweetie. I bet you're not even twenty-one yet."

I lean against the couch's back, breathing harder from the way his hand is moving, slowly, toward my hardening cock.

"Tell me," he says, stroking back down over my knee.

I rasp, "Soccer," and he smiles, looking a little smug and so fuck hot. "That's what I thought. An Alabama athlete. Freckles," he says, leaning down to kiss upward from my knee. "All-American," he breathes on my skin. "Athletic and down to earth, but still a pretty, pretty boy. Such soft skin. I bet you'd kill in drag."

He's sucking on the back inside of my knee, making chills pop out all over my arms. He kisses up my thigh, pushing my shorts leg up. Then his hand goes into my shorts, reaching till his fingers find the base of my dick.

"Fuck. You feel good." It's a rough whisper. His fingers close around me, dragging upward, as he leans in closer and his other hand unbuttons my pants.

"One handed," I manage.

"Oh yes." He gets me out with practiced care, pumping my shaft even as he's taking my cock out of my underwear.

His eyes come to mine, and he smiles. He rises up a little in his crouch, and then his hot mouth's taking me in. He's sucking on me, swallowing me down. I'm shuddering because his mouth is soft and hot. His hand comes under my balls, cupping, stroking my sac lightly, as he blows me fast...and—

I'm groaning.

"Ahh fuck," I whimper.

He sucks me like a lollipop and pulls me out of his mouth. "I'm gonna make you come, freckles. When I get going, you won't have a choice, so this is your time to tell me if you're underage or I should use a condom." He toys with my cockhead, stroking it so I'm moaning as he looks up into my eyes.

"I'm...tested," I manage.

"I got tested two days ago," he says, tracing a fingertip over the slit in my head. "Don't do this again, though. Always bring a flavored condom and make the guy put it on you. Okay, babe?"

I nod, and he lets go of me. "Here, I'll show you. Lemme show you how it feels if it's a thin one. I can get you there, and you'll be protected. When you've got a dick like this," he murmurs in his husky low voice, "you gotta keep it safe."

He rips a condom open and he's rolling it over my cockhead.

"See how thin it is?" The thing is white. "I still see your sexy veins." He gives me a lick. "You can't feel it as good, but it's pretty thin, right?"

"Yeah." Another whimper.

"Lemme tell you about being at a bar, in a backroom, freckles. When you're young like you, you got an ass like that and you're on your fifth drink, you gotta stay safe from the old guys, the fucking voyeurs and the perverts and the freaks that could hurt you." He leans down and gives me a warm suck. "Nobody's gonna watch your sweet ass except you. Okay?"

I nod, and he sucks me in, blowing me with such skill that my fucking toes curl despite the condom squeezing me.

"This tastes like marshmallow," he whispers. "And the size?" He smirks. "It's XL."

I don't want to seem too over-eager, but I can't help the way my hips are moving. It's a struggle not to shove myself down his throat.

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