Page 40 of Hex and the City
Leon’s finger pinched at my nipple. I twitched, quivered. His hand searched for my mouth, probed past my lips. I sucked on his finger, as hungry as he was, closing the loop, completing the circuit. Without saying a single word, without moving from his post, the corner of his mouth bent into a smug smile.
Fuck. I was close. No. I was coming.
My fingernails dug into the leather seats. I didn’t even care if I somehow ripped them open. A hoarse cry tore its way out of my lungs as Leon kissed the head of my cock, kissed my shaft, stroked me again and again until he’d squeezed out every last spasm, every final drop.
I gazed down at him, head spinning, vision blurry. “You made a mess,” he said, his tongue sweeping across his lips.
“You did,” I said, accusing him, hands over my eyes, hardly able to restrain a satisfied, elated chuckle. “Oh, fuck. Look what you did to me, Leon.”
Tissues slid out of the box I kept on the center console, because Leon was naughty and chaotic enough to forcibly blow me in my backseat, but still polite enough to help me clean up after.
“Maybe now you won’t be such a grumpy bastard,” he said, wadding up the tissues, setting them aside on the floor. “If that didn’t clear your head, nothing else will.”
I grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, delighting in the look of shock on his face. I shoved him against his side of the backseat, pinning him against the leather, one hand working at his jeans.
“My turn.”
The lump in Leon’s throat bobbed as he swallowed nervously. Poor guy didn’t know I was planning to return the favor. I tugged his boxers down, plaid and cotton and boyish. His cock sprang up, already fully, furiously hard, a dollop of something clear and sweet waiting to be tasted.
I didn’t wait for an invitation, taking his head into my mouth, sucking down the sweetness. Leon shuddered, clapping both hands over his mouth as he sealed in his moans, like he knew we were doing something forbidden, like he didn’t want anyone hearing.
He was clean, delicious, tasting faintly of salt, mostly of skin. More droplets of quiet syrup fell onto my tongue as a reward, the longer, the harder I worked on him. His sneakers scrabbled at the mat protecting my car’s floors, thumping so hard when I sucked him just right I was afraid he’d kick right through the driver’s seat.
I locked his calves under my arms, pinned them against my body. I wanted to give Leon the time of his life, but I also didn’t want him fucking up the interiors. His fingers ran through my hair, pressing softly against my scalp, insistent, yet appreciative.
“This is fucking wild,” he moaned at the roof, at the stars, at a night sky that he couldn’t see. “How are you so good at this?”
I didn’t answer. Too busy.
Not to be mean or anything, but something about Leon told me he was a little less experienced than I was. I didn’t mind that at all, just an opportunity to show him a few fun tricks. Weird parallel of how I’d assessed his time in being a professional finder, too.
Provided he lasted long enough, of course. How his muscles had tensed up, though, how his body had turned rigid in trembling anticipation? We weren’t going to carry on much longer.
“Max, I’m gonna come. Dude, if you don’t stop now, I’m gonna come right inside your — ”
And so he did, in thick, strong spurts, all across my tongue, down the back of my throat. I swallowed the hot, salty sweetness of him, staring into his eyes the entire time, daring him to stop me, to throw me off. I knew he wouldn’t. Leon’s lashes fluttered, his chest rising and falling as he panted, mouth huge and open in disbelief.
I sucked hard when he finished, meaning to tease out the very last drops of his pleasure. He winced, gritted his teeth, thrashed against the seats. Poor, sensitive Leon, getting more than he’d bargained for. I sucked one last time, licked along the seam of his cock, swallowed whatever remained in my mouth.
When I backed off, his cock was still rock hard, glistening. I gave it a couple of firm, solid strokes. Leon batted my hand away and whined.
“Don’t be so fucking greedy,” he murmured, wearing a strange, sloppy grin.
“And don’t be so fucking rude,” I replied, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. “You’d think you’d be more grateful after I just gave you the best blowjob of your life.”
Leon scoffed, his half-smile betraying how he knew that this was just flirtatious banter, a lighthearted argument in the afterglow.
“That’s funny,” he said, pushing sweaty strands of hair out of his face. “Because I sure don’t remember asking you to — ”
I shut him up with my mouth, kissing him hard, though still more gently than when we’d first kissed in the perfumery. He moaned against my lips, his hand threading through the hair at the back of my head, wanting something to hold on to, still too afraid to grab or to pull.
He was grateful, all right. With his mouth and his hands? I could tell he was very fucking grateful.
I pulled away,. The thinnest line of spit and semen linking our lips broke apart as I sank into my seat. Not once did I take my eyes off his. Leon’s mouth was wet, swollen, perfect. It hung open as he stared back at me, bemused, spent, and yet, I knew, hopelessly aroused.
“There’s your answer,” I told him. “I’m not afraid of you. I’m not afraid of anything.”
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