Page 72 of Finance Bros

“You smell so fucking good, Mal. I wanna suffocate in you.”

My mouth drops open, and my eyes flutter shut as my body rolls toward him.Did he really just say that?

“Mm…fuck,” he groans, kissing his way up my shaft. He laps at the precum and shudders. He’s holding me so tight, I shake, too. And then my cock is in his mouth. I cry out sharply like no one’s ever sucked my dick before. But it’s more like no one’s ever tried toconsumemy dick before.

It’s somewhat terrifying if I’m being honest, but it’s also the best, the hottest, the wettest—his mouth is theultimatehole. He sucks voraciously, groaning and squeezing my body closer to him.

Like he can’t leave them alone, he takes breaks from my cock to mouth and suck my balls. One at a time, both at once, but never letting me move more than the space it takes for him to catch his breath.

Jesus, is this how much he wants me? It feels like a lot. If I’d known it was this much…

I can barely breathe it’s so much.

Not that I’m complaining. I want it. All of it. I just hope what I have to offer is enough to satisfy him. Because I want that, too.

His hand slaps my abs, and his forehead digs into my pubic bone. He breathes, hot breath on my wet cock. “Sorry…” he says, inhaling again, and letting his breath out shakily. His hand gripping me goes from firm and forceful to gentle and soothing, barely touching again. “Sorry. I’m sorry.”

I run my fingers through his hair and take his face between my palms.

He shakes his head, refusing to let me look at him. “We can lie down,” he says, then again, “I’m sorry.”

Using the strength I have left, that he didn’t just inhale or suck out of me, I put my other knee on the cushion, straddling his lap. I force his face up, making room for myself to slide onto his thighs. I wrap my arms around him, pressing my mouth to his neck. “Sorry for what?”

“I’m not like that,” he says. “I just…you were naked, and…”

“You wanted me.”

He nods, his chin digging into my shoulder.

“I want you too,” I tell him.

“Let me chill out a minute.”

“Like this?” I ask.

“Yeah,” he breathes. “Like this is fine.”

Good, because that wasn’t really a question. He would have to throw me off him. I ignore my painful erection and rub his back, taking my chance to breathe him in, soak up his warmth, and settle into the secure circle of his arms. It’s the polar opposite of the way I felt when I got home last night. That was wild and erratic, nearly a frenzy.

This is calm and centered and stable. This is the way only Ryan has ever made me feel. This version of me belongs only to him. And it’s the truest version of me I can think of. Naked, slightly trembly, a lot uncertain, and needing something stronger to hold onto.

This is what I meant when I said I was born this way. I wonder sometimes if I had a twin who died in the womb and got reabsorbed. I’ve read about it—disappearing twin syndrome. And I wonder if I was already attached when I lost him. I’ve never felt like a whole person, complete all by myself. There’s always been something missing.

But if it wasn’t a twin, then I think it might be Ryan, because being close to him like this almost makes those feelings go away.

Almost.

“Are you gonna put some clothes on?” he asks once his breathing settles.

“I wasn’t planning on it. You can take yours off too, if you want.”

He pulls back and looks at me. His eyes narrow. “You just wanna lie down and watch a show, huh?”

“I’ll do whatever you want.” Anything to get him to stay. “Even put on pants.”

“I don’t know how to take it when you’re nice to me,” he says.

I grin. “Am I more likely to get what I want if I’m an asshole?”

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