Page 9 of The Trust
I snicker, though it feels a little thick.
But then he scoots all the way back, his cheeks hitting my groin, and I go hard instantly.
I hold him tighter.
“You know I love you,” I whisper thickly, my cock slotting against his crack. “Right?”
“Mm,te amo.” Jordan arches a leg, opening himself up to me and my heart trips over itself when I brush over smooth silicone.
The plug.
Holy shit, the plug.
“Baby,” I groan and trail my fingers down his side and over the globe of his ass until the digits touch the soft material keeping my man’s ass stretched open. “You’ve had this in way too long.Fuck.”
“Waited for you,” he mutters into the pillow, his eyes still closed and my heart lurches. “Don’t make me wait ’til morning.”
A chill races over my skin.
I finger the toy, giving it a gentle tug.
He gasps and arches back.
“Grab the lube, baby.”
The hand that was beneath his pillow emerged, bottle clasped in his grip, and I laugh.
“Te necesito.”
My laugh cuts off and a flush takes over my skin.
Every time he chooses to speak Spanish to me, it makes my heart skip.
“Okay, okay.” I accept the bottle, coating my fingers and the toy. “Breathe for me.” He does and the resistance I felt around the plug gives way, allowing me to pull it free.
He whimpers and my cock pulses.
“Need you, Vida,” he repeats and I’m fuckingaching.
“Touch your cock, baby.”
The blanket moves and the sound he lets out is nothing short of fucking desperate when his grip wraps around his length.
My breath shakes from my lungs, and I fling the blanket back.
I’m right there. So close that I feel the brush of his skin over my overly sensitive shaft and all it would take to enter him would be one short pump of my hips. One jolt forward and I’d be back inside him.
“Are you gonna take my cock again?”
Jordan’s nod is immediate. “Yes. Please.Please, Vida.” My cock flexes at his words, bumping his gaping hole and he moans. “I’m aching for you, Mac.Please.” He writhes against me, arching back, pushing into me to feel more.
My abs bind up tight.
I fucking love it when he’s like this.
So keyed up and seeking.
Desperate forme.
