Page 72 of Cannon
His lips twist. “What’d you call me when I stole your drink the other day?”
I grunt, once again preoccupied by the way his full lips move when he speaks. “An asshole.” I tip the glass up for another sip before setting it aside.
In the space of one heartbeat, Kingston’s got my jaw in a rough and primal grip. My startled gaze locks on him—because he demands it. His eyes blaze like a furnace, fueling the fire in my chest as he lowers his mouth to press his firm lips to mine in a bruising, breath-stealing kiss. After a moment, he growls when I don’t immediately open for him, and I sway closer, gripping his hips for balance. The hard length of Kingston’s cock brushes mine. At the unexpected contact, I moan, and my mouth drops open. It’s on. His whiskey-soaked tongue swipes into my mouth with a vengeance to tangle with mine, and his big hands grip the back of my neck, thumbs moving back and forth over the stubble at my jawline.
I know my friend’s head must be full of wild thoughts and curiosity. This is new for him. It’s an exploration—but also a possession. It’s like being caught in a storm, the way he touches me. Surges of lust flash through my body like bolts of lightning. I pull him tightly to me, not letting even a fraction of an inch between us. Fuck. I want him so fuckin’ bad.
Our mouths crash together, exploring this white-hot desire that has overtaken us. He nips roughly at my lips, the heat between us building to near inferno levels.
I need more of him.
Sliding my hands back, I grope at his ass, fingers digging into toned muscle through his joggers. A low, animalistic growl rips from him, and he tears his mouth from mine, his head dropping back on his shoulders to stare up at the ceiling. I have him straight up panting. His back bows as he presses his hips forward. He’s hard for me. That thought alone swamps me, nearly taking me under.
It’s exhilarating as hell to think I might be capable of making Kingston come undone. I slowly lick at his neck, inhaling deeply as I drag my tongue from the hollow of his throat upward. He’s pureman,from the salty flavor of his flesh to the woodsy scent of his cologne and the rough stubble coating his jaw.
He grips my shoulders, coasting his lips over my temple as he lets me continue to suck on his skin. I don’t know if he’s nervous or waiting for me to make a move or what. He’ll stop me if he’s not into this, I know he will. Up until now, he’s been the instigator. Now it’s my turn.
Decision made.I slip my fingertips under the waistband of his joggers, giving him time to tell me he doesn’t want this. Instead, a low grunt steals from him as he purposely nudges my dick with his. I waste no more time, shoving my hands directly into his pants and pushing them off his hips. His dick springs out, long and thick. I stop for a moment to admire how fuckin’ perfect he is before I lift my gaze and stare into his eyes. I place a hand on his chest, feeling his heart thrumming a chaotic beat under my fingertips.
I slide that same hand down, grasping his cock firmly, then slowly jerk him in languorous strokes. A harsh breath heaves from his chest. He wets his lips. I see it in his eyes. I know what he wants and is too fuckin’ scared to ask for.
I tighten my grip ever so slightly to get his attention. “I’m gonna suck this cock until you come down my throat.”
His pupils dilate and his body trembles. He’s definitely aroused, the hard dick in my hand told me that before his eyes did, but the quaking of his body—I don’t think it’s nervousness. I think it’santicipation.
I drop to my knees before him with his cock still in my grip. I look up at him to find his jaw’s gone completely rigid as he looks down at me from under hooded eyes. They’re alight with a burning desire—one I’m unsure he’s felt before. It has him all kinds of worked up.
Time to put him out of his fuckin’ misery.
He’s already leaking pre-cum, and he lets out a hiss as I run the flat of my tongue over the slit in the head of his cock, tasting him for the first time. The sound of the blood pounding through my head increases tenfold.
Fuck.
Me.
I work my hand in smooth motions as I teasingly lick and kiss him until he can’t take it anymore. His body strains forward, but he won’t say the words.
If I were Elliot, there’s no doubt in my mind that he’d tell me to fuckin’ suck his fat cock. But I’m not her, and he’s holding back. He and I have a solid relationship already, a certain give-and-take. And there are times when Kingston is capable of handing me the reins and letting me lead. He’s extending that privilege to me right now, here in the bedroom. I wasn’t expecting it, but I like it. The thought of him bending to my will is a heady rush.
With my eyes trained on his face, I watch the myriad of emotions flow over his features when I first take the crown of his cock into my mouth, sucking with gentle pressure.
He makes a noise I’m unsure I’ve ever heard. He goddamn whimpers. For all the days of my life, this moment will be forever burned in my memory. His usual dominating personality is a total turn on, but I swear, I might like this Kingston even better. The one who looks like he might start begging any second now.
I take him deeper into my mouth, keeping one hand on his dick and the other exploring his body, fingers grazing his hip, tracing the groove at the side of his abs, then running them down to his thickly muscled thigh.
“Fuck, you’re killing me.” His hips thrust a little more forcefully, and I let him push deeper into my mouth, until his cock is solidly hitting the back of my throat with each stroke. I groan around him, the hard-on in my pants wanting attention so badly—but for once I don’t touch. Instead, I slide my hand up his thigh again, this time going for his balls. I tug gently on his sac and listen to him grunt and mutter something that sounds a whole lot likemotherfucker.
I pause for a moment, releasing him from my mouth, but continue to lick and suck up and down his length. “K?” I grit out, looking up at him. “Fuck my face. I know you want to.”
He stills for a moment, our eyes connecting. At first, there’s blank shock, but that is quickly overtaken by hunger. I let go of his cock, instead choosing to grip his hips with both my hands. I give him a quick nod of reassurance, and he threads his fingers through my hair.
Slowly, he feeds me his cock, sliding it in until it can’t possibly go any further, then back, only barely keeping it in my mouth. He pushes it past my lips a second time. Then again. And finally, he begins to rock, picking up speed. It doesn’t take long before he’s thrusting rather wildly, losing that sense of control he’s so damn fond of.
And the entire time, I keep my gaze locked on his, even as I gag a bit and my eyes begin to water. His fingers clench in my hair, tugging at the strands. I have no clue if he realizes he’s doing that or not. Air gusts from his lungs as he rasps out a new curse with each thrust. “Oh fuck. Motherfuck. Fuuuck. So good, Arch. You’re gonna make me come.”
I’ve given head before, but it was never like this. It never felt good or right like it does with Kingston.
He removes one hand from my hair, gripping me under my chin at the very top of my throat. His movements slow as he tenses up, then his jaw goes slack as he groans my name long and low, hot cum spilling down my throat. I swallow every bit of him, knowing that with the placement of his hand, he can feel me do it.
