Page 42 of Iced Out

“Someone doesn’t know patience.”

Once we’re through the door, he kicks it closed behind him and shoves me down onto the bed. His lips are raw from our kiss, neck red from where my stubble and teeth have been scraping at his skin, and hair on the top of his head a mess from my fingers knotting in the long, silky strands.

I don’t think he’s ever looked sexier in his life.

“Never claimed it to be one of my virtues, Reed. Now strip.”

My stomach flips when he pulls his shirt over his head, tossing it in the hamper in his closet. Hard muscle and smooth skin covered in ink are exposed, and instantly, what little remains of my nerves are completely gone. In its place is a shot of adrenaline zipping straight to my dick at the sight of him half-naked.

My eyes trace and map over every inch of his body, taking in the ink covering his back and the length of his arms, trying to figure out which I want to explore first. Something I’ve never dreamed of doing with him, nor the number of filthy images currently in my head right now.

But while we’re within the parameters of this deal, there’s nothing stopping me from doing all those things to my heart’s desire.

Shedding my shirt, I toss it to the ground at the end of the bed. My hands quickly move to my belt, desire coursing through me as I struggle threading the leather out of the loops. Quinton’s already stripped down to his boxers, watching me in amusement as I fumble miserably.

“Need some help?”

The amusement in his tone sets me on edge, and my teeth sink into the fleshy wall of my cheek on instinct, trying not to let him set me off when I’m sure he means nothing by it.

The deep timbre of his laugh floats through the room as he knocks my hands away to undo my belt, ignoring the slight irritation I shoot his way. But he doesn’t care, and doesn’t dare let it faze him.

He’s slow yet methodical in his movements, and Jesus Christ, I didn’t realize someone could make taking clothes offmeseductive. But the way his eyes trail over me flicks fire and lust across my bare skin, and by the time he’s got me naked and on display before him, I’m consumed in flames.

Then he strips off the last layer of his own decency, revealing his long, thick, gorgeous cock, and I combust into an inferno.

“Get over here,” I demand gruffly.

My hand anchors at the back of his neck, dragging his mouth back to mine. We’re all teeth and tongue as he layers his body over mine across the mattress. With each grinding roll of his pelvis and harsh pants against my lips, I’m driven to the brink of insanity with want.

I can’t remember a time where I wanted anyone as much as I want Quinton right now.

Digging the ends of my fingers into his ass, I yank him closer before flipping our positions so I’m on top. In control. Exactly where I like to be.

“Mmm, there he is,” he rasps into my mouth before taking my lip between his teeth. “I knew a fighter was inside there somewhere.”

Quinton chooses that moment to press his hips up into mine again, his bare cock rubbing against my own.

“Lube?” I rasp out the word, already leaning away toward the nightstand before he can confirm it’s in there. It is, and I quickly flip the cap open and douse my aching length with the liquid. His attention latches on to my hand working myself over, and where I expect to find fear, regret, or uncertainty, all I see is desire.

Desire, and a whole lot of curiosity.

When my hand wraps around his shaft, lube sliding between my fingers and over his length, he inhales sharply.

“God, your hand feels amazing.”

A smirk makes its way across my face as I reposition myself over him, knowing if this feels good, what’s about to happen next will be other-worldly to him.

But hell if I won’t drive him to begging first.

I take my time coating his shaft, taunting and teasing him with every stroke. Learning exactly how he likes and wants to be touched. I catalog every hitched breath and tortured moan to memory, as if they won’t be permanently seared there by the time this is over.

“You’re a noisy fucker,” I murmur, leaning down to nip at his collarbone when he lets out another groan of pleasure.

“Observant as ever.”

“Mmm,” I hum, rolling my aching cock into his hip as I continue to jack him. “Why am I not surprised?”

His head turns, lips skimming against my skin as he pants out, “Is that gonna be an issue?”

---