Page 108 of Cowboy Seeks Husband
“Is that all?”
“I’ll let you know if I change my mind.”
He spread his legs wider. The piercing glinted in the orange light. Walker nosed Roan’s balls, breathing deeply, then flicked his tongue against the little silver ring.
“Oh, God.” One of Roan’s legs slipped from his grasp and thumped to the bed. He had to try twice before he could get a grip on it again.
“Okay, little lion?”
“Yeah, I—yeah.”
Walker heard the little hesitation. He sat back. “What is it. You need the mask off?”
“Not yet. I just haven’t…been with anyone since I got that piercing over a year ago.”
A rush of heat shot up Walker’s dick and dribbled out. He breathed evenly for a second, closing his eyes so he didn’t have to look at Roan’s balls, his smooth taint, that sweet little asshole waiting just beneath.
“Walker?” Roan asked, voice small.
“I’m trying not to come,” he admitted, opening his eyes. Roan let his head fall back, laughing softly. “Oh, you think that’s funny?” He bent and sucked Roan down without warning.
“Ah! God!” Roan thrashed against the pillow, then stilled again when Walker just as abruptly let go of him again. “Please,” he whispered, even as it sent a rush of red heat up his throat. “Please.”
“I’ve got you, baby. You don’t need to beg.” Walker licked Roan’s taint, tickled the metal piercing in Roan’s tight little balls. Roan’s hole contracted and relaxed. Walker grabbed his hips, hauled him up and tongued him open.
The noise Roan made was the dirtiest thing Walker had ever heard. He licked and prodded, nibbled and kissed, until Roan was a writhing, swearing mess. He’d started to shake again, and Walker was glad they weren’t back on Cormac, because this time he didn’t think he’d have managed to keep Roan from kicking him. Giving him a moment to settle, Walker gently sucked his balls again, always returning to the ring clinging to his sack. He took it in his mouth and softly sucked, listening to Roan’s keening noises.
Roan had his head thrown back again, his sharp Adam’s apple danced convulsively as he tried to moisten his no doubt dry mouth, and his chest heaved as he gulped for breath. When he calmed a little, Walker lifted his hips up again and brought that gorgeous hole to his mouth again.
“Fuck. Fuck! Walker, I can’t—” His legs jerked, hard, and hit Walker in the back. “Shit, shit, I’m so sorry.”
Walker eased him down and stroked his stomach, his thighs, gave his cock a leisurely tug. The foreskin had withdrawn completely now, hugging the base of his cock-head, and Walker played with it until he could slip it back up. He shoved his thumb underneath it and drew lazy circles.
“Tell me what you want, Roan,” he murmured.
“Fuck me. Please.”
“You sure?”
“Yes.”
“I want to see you for that.”
Roan went still. “Okay,” he whispered. “But not yet.”
Walker kissed the inside of Roan’s knee, then gently eased his thighs down, stretching them out so Roan could relax. He grabbed a condom, made quick work of snapping it in place, and reached for the lube. When he saw an unopened bottle of water and some wet wipes, he grabbed both. Wiping his mouth first—he wanted to kiss Roan again, and while he didn’t think Roan’d mind after the rimming, it was only polite—he then opened the bottle.
“Want some water, little lion?”
“Yes, please.”
It didn’t even occur to Roan to sit up and reach for the bottle. He let Walker lift his head and opened his mouth, so trustingly something warm and wonderful bloomed in Walker’s chest. He gave Roan a few sips, then drank some himself, swirling it around his mouth before he swallowed.
“I’m going to work you open with my fingers first.”
“You don’t need to. I can take it.”
“It’s been a year. I don’t want you to take it, Roan.” He leaned close and whispered in his ear, “I want you to love it so much you’ll ask me for more. Again, and again, and again.”
Roan made a hoarse sound, and turned his face toward Walker. Their mouths slid together like they’d been kissing for years. Without breaking the connection, Walker lubed up two fingers and searched for Roan’s hole. He rooted around gently, testing. When one finger traced the rim, Roan instantly bore down, trying to draw Walker in. He withdrew a little, intent on taking his time, then pressed again, mimicking the movement with his tongue.
Going by the noise Roan was making, he yearned as much for Walker’s tongue in his mouth as a finger in his ass. Walker gave in, licking into Roan’s mouth, then entering his finger, slowly but inexorably surely. When Roan’s hole fluttered around him, hot and tight and soft, Walker held still until he relaxed, then worked on opening him up a little more.
Walker stopped kissing when he drew out and returned with two fingers so he could see if Roan was all right. He was trying hard to relax, fists opening and closing against the sheets, lips parted. He still knew what to do, but that didn’t mean he didn’t anticipate pain, and Walker wanted him to feel as little discomfort as possible. His breath hitched when Walker pushed in to the first knuckle, then he grimaced a little, so Walker touched his nipples, gently at first, then tugged at the piercings a little harder. Roan’s entire body shuddered, then capitulated to the intrusion. Walker’s fingers sank into his body, drawn in, then held there by Roan.
