Page 87 of Finance Bros

I slide my hand down the back of his pants, making them tighter,hopingto make this insufferable for him, too. It’s the first time I’ve touched his bare ass, and it’s hard as a rock. He’s a brick house and all that. Fuckingfantastic.He groans, maybe because I just tugged his lip with my teeth—maybe because I’m putting more pressure on his big dick.

“Ryan,” I whisper. “Come on. Please.”

The next noise he makes is more like a whimper of defeat. He sucks in his abs enough to get his hand between us and works open both our jeans. Immediately, my hand slips further down his ass, and I dig my fingers into the muscle, pulling at it, wanting to take a piece of him with me.

“Whoa, damn,” he says, his forehead landing on mine while he lets me grope him a few more times. With every squeeze, he grinds his hips against mine, and I’m dying to tell him to justfuck me already. He might not be“ready”for it, but we both want it, and I don’t need a better reason.

I take another risk, loosening my legs from around his back and letting go of his ass. I start taking off my jeans. “Do it,” I tell him. “Get naked with me.”

For some reason, he does. He sits back on his heels and opens his pants the rest of the way. As I’m pushing mine past my hips, he’s doing the same thing.

Closer, I think.We’re getting closer.

His cock appears in all its perfection and glory. My ass clenches, wanting it so fucking bad. I’ve never much considered my asshole as a space, but lately I’m hyperaware of how empty it is. How hungry it is to be filled.

Do I have a virgin hole? Yes. Do I care? Fuck no. I want that dick to split me in half. I want ityesterday. I want to get the first time over with so I can make Ryan fuck me all the time. The unisex bathroom at work comes to mind. It’s a single stall with a door that locks. Not that I give a fuck about a locked door, but he probably would.

I’ve also counted at least a dozen surfaces in this very room I want him to bend me over. Especially the beanbag. I think I could make it really good for both of us on the beanbag.

He’s got his pants halfway down his thighs, but I’m naked already, watching him and waiting. He’s staring down at me, his gaze roaming from my chest to my erection, and he freezes. Like he stops. Stuck.

“Ry?”

“Uh-huh?” He doesn’t move. Doesn’t take his eyes off my cock.

“I wanna see you.”

His next breath is shaky, but slowly he keeps undressing. Once his jeans are off, and I see he’s got a hip and thigh tattooalong with everything else, I get that high feeling again. Euphoria. Like I’m not responding to gravity anymore.

I reach for the tattoo—his hip. “That is the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.”

He glances down at his leg like he forgot what his own tattoo looks like. It’s the only one with color. A rosy orange that looks gorgeous on his skin makes up what looks like poppies surrounding a Celtic cross. There’s something sort of familiar about it but fuck if I can remember what it is right now. The poppies are what spread up to his hip while the stone cross takes up most of his outer thigh. It’s beautiful. He issofucking beautiful.

I was too young and stupid to appreciate him before, and maybe he needed what I put him through (not that I’m excusing myself for it) to become this magnificent man. Like how diamonds are formed from pressure and heat. This hot as fuck version of Ryan was forged with my denial and hate.

Maybe.

I reach for his ass, but he grabs my wrist. “Turn over.”

“Actually?” I ask, like he just offered me a job I’m in no way qualified for but want really bad anyway.

He nods and guides my hips as I roll to my stomach. “Just like that,” he whispers, moving my legs apart and dragging his fingers up the backs of my thighs. I moan, thrilling at the sensation. I’m sensitive back there. I didn’t know.

He squeezes both my ass cheeks at the same time, and I feel them spread, my hole stretching open. My immediate instinct is to get my knees under me—arch my back, offer myself up, but when I start to move, he presses my hips to the mattress, massaging my ass like he took a college course in butt massage.

It feels incredible. The majority of my body melts into the bed. My cock, however—it might as well be back in my jeans for how trapped it is.

“Mal…” He says my name in that shaky, warning way he has when he doesn’t trust what’s about to happen. It’s also how he says it when he’s about to come.Please don’t come yet, Ryan…

“I can take it,” I tell him. “Please.”

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

“Ry—”

I shut up when I hear him spit and warm liquid pools in my asshole. Barely a second later, his mouth is on me. My shocked gasp is loud enough to send his cat leaping off the bed. I gather the pillow beneath me and stuff my face into it as he spits again and sucks. “God, oh fucking god, fuck that’s so fucking good yes fuck yes.”

Whatever he started doing to my crotch yesterday that he apologized profusely for? He’s doing thattimes tento my hole. His face has to be buried between my ass cheeks. His tongue enters and licks me. He’s practically snarling, and I am so goddamn glad I prepped again and way more thoroughly than last night. I’m talking—I stopped by the store on the way home and picked up some things. My only concern is whether I’m sweating, but judging by the way he’s trying to eat my ass for dinner, he must really, really like it.

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