Page 36 of His Every Move

Rarely ever.

“I was going to tell you,” Benji answered. He slowly rutted his hips, grinding his ass down on me. I shut my eyes again. He felt silky soft, his tight hole gripping my cock as he gently rocked back and forth. “When I saw you arrive, I knew I wanted to talk to you. I was nervous, though. Something about creating a connection outside of this party with you made things a little complicated.”

“I didn’t realize you were even into parties like these.”

“I am,” Benji answered, continuing to rock back and forth on my lap. His cock was as stiff as mine. He leaked precum onto my belly. The guy looked like he was cosplaying as a broken faucet.

I loved it. Loved playing with precum, loved when my own dick dripped. I thumbed his wet slit and brought it up to my lips, smiling as I sucked.

“It’s just… odd,” I said.

His brows scrunched together. “This? I can stop.”

“No. It’s odd how I haven’t been able to get you out of my head, and here you are. Almost like I manifested this.”

“Maybe you did,” Benji said. He leaned down and slowly went for my lips with his.

This was odd. This encounter. It felt written down by fate, but was there something more here at play? Was I missing something? My paranoia flared. It was a constantly burning fire inside the back of my psyche, fed stronger by being stalked. I was extra wary of everyone and everything lately.

So why wasn’t I all that wary of this?

Benji’s tongue parted my lips, and I was instantly reminded of why I wasn’t wary.

Because Iwantedthis. Fuck it. IwantedBenji. Bad.

Beyond that, I had also hired him to figure out who was behind Nomad. He had entered my life to literally protect me. How could I not trust him?

“God,” I hissed out when we broke our kiss. “Your ass feels like heaven.”

“And your cock is taking me straight there.”

“Yeah? You like it?”

Benji chewed his bottom lip, turning the thick pink skin a pale white. The room was lit by a single floor lamp next to the door to a private balcony, the bright city casting its light even when we were this high up.

“I’m so fucking glad you’re here,” I said.

“Really?” Benji asked, voice husky, raw. “I thought you’d be busy before I could even get near you.”

Something about that statement struck out at me, but Benji’s ass tightened around my dick, and all thoughts were forgotten.

“I don’t usually treat my clients like this, by the way,” Benji added.

“So I’m special?” I teased.

“I think so.”

I smiled up at him and started to fuck him harder. He squatted above me and let me slam into him. “Oh fuck, Eli! Fuck yeah, fuck my hole. Holy fuuuu?—”

I rubbed his legs, the dark hair soft under my palms. He was such a beautiful fucking man. He had a dark bush of pubic hair that trailed up to a well-maintained patch on his belly, up toward another dark patch over his chest. He had a strong chest and strong arms but also didn’t count his carbs or spend hours working out abs, which I loved.

He was my type to a T.

I slowed my thrusts, pulling my cock to the edge, feeling him grip at the head. I let out a deep breath. He had me so close.

“Where do you want me to come?” I asked. Part of being invited to Masked Manhattan was submitting a recent STI test and being okay with unprotected sex.

Still, I wanted to be polite.

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