Page 75 of Finance Bros

He’s staring at me with his lips parted and his chest risingand falling quickly. His eyes look darker. Hooded. He’s fisting the comforter near his thigh. I hold his gaze as I take him deeper, gagging slightly on my first attempt, but so fucking determined not to the second time, that I getwayfarther. He grunts and curses while I choke him down.

His dick throbs in my mouth, and I draw back to take a gasping breath, eyes watering so hard, tears are pooling on my cheekbones.

“I’m close,” he whispers, looking concerned. He’s warning me. “Don’t make me come in your mouth.”

That’s just stupid. I shake my head and go down on him again, sucking harder and glaring at him like this is his punishment for underestimating me.

“Mal…Mal…”

As his copious precum coats my tongue, I force my way to his base, taking a deep breath through my nose before burying my face in his pubic hair. I figure this proves I’m not straight. Deep throating first time out of the gate? Looks like I’ve finally found something I’m passionate about.

I gulp around him until he comes with a shout, and I keep swallowing until I’m lightheaded and breathless and I’ve memorized the clean, salty taste of him. I pull back, but I don’t stop sucking or licking, I keep kissing his cock until I’m sure I’ve got every drop of what he made for me. When I’m satisfied I’m done, and he’s a jerky, quivering mess, I push myself up and press a kiss to his lower abs, right between the cum gutters. He tastes good here, too.

He grabs my arm and pulls me up. “Come in my mouth,” he tells me.

I don’t question him or hesitate becausefinally. Fuck. I’ve been focused on taking him—proving something, but I’m edged so bad, this could be messy. Still, I need it like I need him in mybed right now. I shove my hand into my sweatpants, bring out my cock, and straddle his chest.

He grabs my ass, working the pants down in the back to grasp my bare skin, which feels so fucking perfect, I’m that much closer.

He parts his lips, and I slide my dick between them. The sight of that is phenomenal, but the feel of his tongue on my sensitive flesh sends a jolt up my spine and puts a clench in my legs. Once again, I come nearly the instant I’m inside him. He shuts his eyes and drinks me down, his hands kneading my ass cheeks as I catch my overloaded body on the headboard and gasp my way through the mind-blowing release.

“Oh fuck, oh shit…” I pant as powerful bursts shoot into his perfect mouth.

He looks drugged, rapturous, and lewd with his lips stretched around my less than perfect but still decently fat dick. I pull out before I overload and put myself at risk for a seizure or something. I’m literally that fried. He licks his lips and swallows before he opens his eyes to look up at me.

There—I paced us both. No need to freak out. We’re on the same page. I sit back on his thighs and pull up my sweatpants so he doesn’t have to watch my dick slowly deflate. It’s much better looking when it’s hard. His probably looks good all the time. I’ll take a peek in a minute to prove my theory, but right now, I’m more interested in his sexy as fuck face. “Okay?” I ask evenly.

He nods, swallowing again. He’s got his hands on top of my thighs, and I like them there, too.

“Need anything?” I ask. “Water?”

“I’m good. You?”

“I’m good. Wanna watch the show?”

Bewildered, he blinks a few times. “Sure.”

“Want some sweatpants?”

“No, I’m all right.”

“They’re more comfortable. You’re not planning to go, are you?” Yeah, I get it’s a leading and slightly manipulative question, but it’s safe to say I’ve lost all sense of shame when it comes to him.

“I can stay a little longer, and these pants are fine.”

“You’re making this harder than it has to be.” I lie down and snuggle up to him again. I get a glimpse of his cock before he tucks it back into his underwear, and yep. It’s a motherfucking work of art.

That better not be the last time I ever get to see it. I’ll be so pissed. He only thought I was an asshole in high school. Wait until he sees what I’m like when I actually know what I want and can’t have it.

At least this time, when I tangle our legs, he turns in bed to face me, which I take as permission to kiss him again.

He’s way more chill about it this time, leisurely kissing me back as I explore the taste of myself mixed with him. What a fucking turn on. How did I ever manage to delude myself for any length of time—much lessyears—that this wasn’t for me. “This is so good,” I accidentally say out loud.

I get a peck on the cheek and the loss of his tongue in my mouth for that.

He’s looking at me like I’m a puzzle he can’t figure out. I let him, content enough to be in his arms, close to him. Not alone.

“Anyway,” I say, “I’m glad you’re here.”

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