Page 430 of Rock Me All Night
"For science?"
I nod.
My hand brushes against the firm muscles of his stomach. He feels good all slippery and wet. I've been attracted to men, admired them from afar, but I've never craved my hands on their skin. Even before Bradley.
They had nothing on this.
His body is already my favorite thing in the world. The way he shudders as my hands make their way down my torso. The way he presses his cheek against mine and sighs right into my ear.
My hand slips below his belly button. There. It brushes against his cock.
He grabs onto my hips and presses me against the wall.
I keep my touch light as I stroke him from his base to his tip. His eyelids flutter closed. His lips part with a sigh. His pleasure is my pleasure. Better than my pleasure even.
I rub my thumb over his tip, testing his reactions as I play with the barbell on top. It's snug against his glans. Barely moves when I touch it. But that doesn't stop him from shuddering and pressing his lips to my ear.
"You keep doing that and I'm gonna come." His voice is breathy and desperate.
"That's the idea."
I tease him the way his teased me, rubbing my thumb over every inch of his tip until he's shaking. My do I like this apadravya of his. He groans with pleasure every time I touch it.
"Willow." Tom slides his hand around my ass and holds on tight.
I rise to my tiptoes to bring my mouth to his ear. The ceramic floor is too slick for me to keep my balance. I slip.
Tom catches me and holds me against the wall. "You need to work on your balance, kid. Some yoga or rollerblading or something."
I laugh. So much for being the cool, suave sex expert. I can still drive him out of his damn mind. I look up at Tom and slide my free hand up his stomach and chest.
"Later. Right now." I drag my fingertips up his neck. "I need to feel you come on my hand."
"Fuck yes."
"Show me."
He takes one hand off my hips. "Sure you can balance on your own?"
I nod.
Tom places his palm on the back of my hand and uses it to guide my movements. Long, slow strokes get faster, harder.
I use my free hand to play with his earlobe. Every brush makes him shake or shudder a little more. He groans, releasing my hand from his guidance to press it against the slick tile wall next to my shoulder.
He stares deeply into my eyes. "Don't fucking stop."
No way in hell would I stop. I stroke hard. He kisses me aggressively. His tongue slides against mine as he groans into my mouth. I can feel his sigh of pleasure reverberating across my cheeks and down my chest.
The way he's shaking and groaning—he's almost there.
I keep my pace, even as he pulls his lips away from mine to let out a deep, animal groan.
"I'm gonna come." He slams his hand against the wall.
I can feel him pulsing. Can see the ecstasy in his eyes and lips. There. He comes, spurting against my hand and onto my belly.
"Fuck, Willow." He wraps his arms around me and holds our bodies together. "Haven't enjoyed a hand job that much since I was fifteen."
