Page 60 of Love Me Like It's Real
“There he is,” he murmurs as he begins his descent on my body, pulling my pants down with him.
“There what is?” I gasp as my cock and front hole are exposed to the slightly chilly air.
“My Felix,” he says, getting down on his knees before me and holding my knees together. “May I suck you off?”
I nod fast and hard before he’s even finished his sentence and he parts my legs. I feel his breath on my sore dick before his tongue, and I feel myself grow bigger in his mouth.
My breathing becomes erratic and I can’t help but get louder and louder the more of me he sucks and he increases his speed and force as if he’s getting hungrier for me by the second.
When I manage to find myself some oxygen, I pull his hand up and shove his fingers into my mouth. It’s his turn to moan and he stops licking me for a moment to watch me suck on his index, middle and ring fingers.
I hold his gaze like I would do if this was cock I was sucking, and his expression strains the more I go on.
Then I watch him watching me guide him down to my front hole and slide a finger inside.
“Use both of them. Don’t be scared,” I whisper, noticing his hesitation to touch my front hole.
He swallows and goes back down on me, trapping my cock in his mouth and adding his middle finger inside me while his ring finger pushes against my back hole. He works up a rhythm, a masterful rhythm that makes my insides threaten to combust and he keeps on going until my desire is trapped at my core and my throat, threatening to spill at both ends.
It’s as if he knows. As if he can feel it. Because he takes a moment to look me in the eyes and then pushes his fingers deeper inside and his tongue finds solace on my cock until I let go. Let go and ignite my insides, ignite my skin, ignite the air we breathe with my orgasm.
I’ve never been savored like this. Never been revered like this. It’s as if…as if I’ve not experienced the true meaning of sex until now and I feel as if this is my first time. As if I’ve been reborn.
I don’t know what the hell kind of sex I had with my ex before, but it wasn’t anything like this. It wasn’t anything close to this. No wonder I thought I could resist doing it again, but after this, after tonight, I don’t know that I can.
I want to do this again, with Hayworth.
I never want to stop.
SEVENTEEN
HAYWORTH
His orgasm reverberates through me like a tsunami, sending wave after wave of pleasure and want all the way down to my root. My cock strains in its denim prison and I’m desperate to release it but he tastes too damn good to let go of him. I want to be selfish but I can’t. The only thing I can do is keep licking him, sucking him, fingering him and watching him come undone before me until he hisses and twitches and forces me to stop.
He hooks a finger under my chin and leans into me, mouth open, tongue locked and loaded and claims my mouth like I’ve just claimed him and it’s only then I have half a willing mind to grope myself, to stroke myself, to massage the hardness in my pants.
His hands slide down but he doesn’t stop kissing me and he takes over the act, making it even more painful. I gasp and pant in his mouth and he sucks it in as if it’s his lifeline. I open my eyes. I didn’t even realize I’d closed them but I had. I find him staring at me with those hungry green-gray eyes and I moan for him.
“Let me show you some mercy,” he mumbles for a moment before he resumes the kiss and both hands unhook the button on my jeans, two fingers pull the zipper down and before I know it I’m exposed and at his mercy as he was only moments ago.
He prompts me to sit up and pushes me against the couch. His hold on my cock is firm but not tight. His movements slow, excruciatingly slow, I find myself catching my breath. He sits on my lap, guiding me under him and I brace myself but it never comes. No, instead he rubs his cock against mine, teasing me with a breach that never comes but gets me pulsing and panting uncontrollably.
“You like that?” he asks, sounding sultry, playful.
It’s like the more we do this the more confident he gets to the point he’s just plain torturing me now.
“Uh-huh,” is the only sound that manages to come out of me and he continues flicking me back and forth between his cock and his taint, the warmth of his skin giving me goose bumps.
“Good,” he says and dismounts me. “You’re not getting it.”
He smirks cheekily but I don’t care because I’m too busy throbbing for him, needing him, needing the release.
“I don’t do bare,” he says and the image of being inside him fills my brain with its filth.
I moan and he takes advantage of it by kissing me just enough to swallow my groan before he starts his descent, his tongue leaving a wet trail in its wake to my dick.
He kneels before me, his gaze a burning intensity that can undo me without warning or remorse, and he parts his lips just enough to fit my cockhead.
