Page 74 of Wristlocked
“Nah, I just wanna know what it was like. Was it romantic?” He bites his lip. “Did it hurt?” That one is directed at me with a gleam in his eye. Lyot and I exchange a look.
“It was overwhelming,” he says, at the same time I say, “It was perfect.”
“Jesus, you two.” Gale shakes his head.
“Don’t pretend you don’t know the feeling,” Lyot says, still looking at me with a slight smile playing on his lips.
“You fuck a lot of guys in here?” Gale asks, propping himself up on his elbows and drawing our attention back to him in his trademark way.
“Some.” Lyot shrugs.
“What about been fucked?”
“Once.” They’re both playing casual, but there’s no mistaking the heat building in the room.
“Anything youhaven’tdone in here?”
“I’ve never been sucked off by a sadist with a lip ring.” The moment hangs heavy as they stare each other down. “I’m sure Shadow will give you some pointers if you’re scared.”
Gale doesn’t look scared. He lookshungry, and the tight coil of my own appetite builds between my thighs. There’s dark curiosity on his face, too, like he’s not quite sure what to make of this side of Lyot. My jungle cat is back, flooding the childhood space with primal male energy that makes it hard to breathe. I’m afraid to move, afraid to make a sound and break the spell, but my thighs clench involuntarily, and Gale’s eyes whip to me like he can smell my arousal.
“You can touch yourself, Smalls,” he says, sitting up and swinging his legs over the edge of the bed to straddle Lyot’s. “This is gonna be hot as fuck.”
I shimmy out of my jeans while they both watch with hooded eyes, then crawl up onto the bed, leaning back against the pillows and sliding a hand inside my sopping underwear.
“Having second thoughts?” Lyot asks when Gale’s gaze on me goes feral. In answer, Gale drags his eyes from my hand to Lyot’s face. With a slow smile, he peels his T-shirt off over his head, tangling his arms in the thin cotton and leaving them trapped behind his back. With all the sculpted lines of his chest and shoulders exposed, he offers himself up like Eros.
“C’mon then, pretty boy,” he says. “Take it.”
I watch the gray dissolve to black in Lyot’s eyes as he unbuttons his jeans and takes his cock in his hand. He puts one hand on the nape of Gale’s neck and holds himself still, hovering the swollen head of his erection against Gale’s waiting lips. When Gale swirls his tongue around the tip, Lyot makes a soft hiss, and his hips jerk forward.
I fall into their game of give and take, letting my fingers bring me slowly along with them. Watching Lyot struggle to hold himself back as Gale devours him with all the fearless craving of his reckless mouth renders me ravaged with desire, and I falter first, climaxing with a soft cry against the two fingers pressed to my swollen clit.
Lyot’s eyes stutter to mine, and he pulls back with an answering moan, dragging his fingers up over the raw contours of Gale’s skull. Gale lets him go with a wet sucking pop that brings a flood of saliva to the back of my tongue. I bite my lip and shake my head, keeping Shadow on her leash.
“Is that all you got, pretty boy?” Gale challenges. Lyot’s other hand comes up to cradle Gale’s jaw.
“You think you can handle it all?” he whispers, and without waiting for an answer, he thumbs Gale’s mouth open and fills it with a deliberate rock of his hips. Gale tears himself free of his shirt and wraps his arms around Lyot’s hips, burying his face in the taut planes of Lyot’s pelvis as his eyes close. I can see his throat working as Lyot cries out, and I plunge two fingers inside myself and fight to keep my own eyes open, drowning in the sight of their desperate perfection.
“God, I love your filthy fucking mouth,” Lyot gasps, and Gale growls around his cock as all their teasing play melts into urgent riot. When he comes, Lyot’s knees buckle, and Gale follows him down, sliding from the bed to land on his knees, only his locked arms and mouth keeping Lyot on his feet.
I throw myself across the bed as Lyot collapses onto Gale’s lap, capturing Gale’s jaw in my hands and tilting his head back to drink the echoes of Lyot’s essence from his mouth.
“Did you like that, Smalls?” he asks when I release him.
“Hot as fuck.” I’m still breathless, but I give him a smile. “As promised.”
“Ready for your turn?”
Lyot groans, falling back onto the floor.
“Give me a minute,” he pleads.
“I want—” I stop, looking around. The room seems too full to hold the things I’m feeling. The layers of memory and dream stacked too tight for the crash of our flesh and the wild ardor in my heart. I roll off the bed and hold out my hands. “Something different. Take me to the sky.”
37
Gia
