Page 82 of Ignite
I rake my hands through his hair, unable to help myself from touching him back. “Don’t wear shirts anymore. You don’t need them.”
He chuckles and flicks open my jeans. “Yes, I’ll conduct all business naked from now on.”
When his hand wraps around my hard dick, my spine loses support. I curl forward, my forehead coming to rest against his smooth chest. “Good. You. Naked. It’s… it’s good.”
Cain grips my jaw in his other hand and seals his mouth to mine. There’s nothing hesitant about the way he’s kissing or touching me. No testing boundaries. No giving space for feelings or doubts.
Cain kisses me like he wants me just as much as I need him, and I’m toast.
He hooks his hands in my pants and tugs at them. “Fucking skinny jeans.”
Whipping out a serrated knife, he slices down the fabric before I can protest, cutting through my boxers, too.
“God, just look at you.” He drags his fiery gaze down my body. “I want to fuck you so hard you can’t sit for a week.”
“Yes, please.” I suck on my lip ring.
A yelp bursts from my mouth as he hauls me off the counter and flips me so my chest and stomach are pasted to the cold countertop.
“Ah, shit!” I hiss, but soon forget my discomfort when Cain spreads my cheeks and flattens his tongue to my hole. “Oh, fuck.”
He licks his way down to my balls, tracing a maddening pattern. And when he sucks on my rim, I know my dick is leaking pre-cum all over the side of his counter.
“Cain,” I whine.
He growls. “Not yet, baby. I’m not done playing with you.”
Teeth sink into one of my cheeks. I cry out, hips tilting forward, desperate for friction.
“No coming,” Cain orders. “Iwillspank you if you do.”
He pushes his tongue inside of me, and I lose my mind, my hands snapping out to grip the edges of the counter. I rock back against him.
He continues torturing me, moving his skillful tongue in and out of my hole, soaking my rim with spit.
When I’m a shuddering mess, his hands draw me back from the counter enough so he can jerk me off while his tongue continues to trace my rim.
“Jesus Christ on a fucking bike. Fuck me already.”
Cain replaces his tongue with a finger, sinking it deep inside me. “You good, baby?”
I moan. “No, I’m in agony.”
His hand clamps down on my cock, holding me in place. “I don’t think you are. You’re not screaming yet.”
There’s pressure as he begins to push another finger inside of me. I groan as he eases it out and spits down my crease before sinking it further this time.
“You say the word and I stop.”
“Don’t stop,” I pant, eyes shut and body trembling.
Cain works a third finger in and strokes that magical spot that has me moaning on every slide of his hand along my cock.
“Oh my god, that’s good.”
His fingers leave my body, and I groan in protest.
“Keep gripping the counter, Ezra,” Cain orders.
