Page 37 of Unlocked Dive
I’m flayed open, inside out. The stars are all around me, behind my eyes and under my skin, and my cock is weeping, but I don’t touch it. I want every nerve ending concentratedthere, under his mouth, opening to his warm, wet tongue.
“Byrd,” I groan. “Are you going to fuck me?”
“Not tonight.” He bites into the flesh of my ass, right at the crease below my balls, and a whine escapes me. “No condoms, remember? No lube.”
Fuck. I’ve been stashing the damn things all over his fucking house for weeks. Apparently, I need to start carrying them in my pockets, too.
“Then turn around.”
“Why?”
“So I can taste you too.”
“Sixty-nine?”
I can sense his amusement, but his voice has dropped that last octave, telling me he likes the idea.
“Not just for straight people,” I tease. “Now turn around and feed me your cock.”
He ignores my demand, instead crawling up my body to capture my mouth in another dizzying kiss. “Such a greedy boy,” he murmurs, rocking his hips against mine.
“Yes,” I agree.
I want him everywhere.
I hook my leg around his calf and push at his shoulder. He shifts his weight, letting me roll him over and straddle his waist. His thick erection nestles in the cleft of my ass, where I’m slick with his saliva, and I can’t resist sliding back and forth. His tip catches on my rim, and I grind into it, letting it stretch me a little so he sucks in a breath and digs his fingers into my hips.
“Echo,” he growls in warning.
I roll my hips one more time, teasing us both, and then relent and flip around to face his beautiful cock.
Leaning down, I wrap my hand around his base and flick my tongue over his slit. I want to take my time, to tease and savor him, but as soon as he feels my lips opening around his blunt head, he thrusts into my mouth, shocking a moan from me. At the same time, he runs his tongue down my length and spreads my ass with his hands.
“How much can you take?” he asks, circling my entrance with a finger. “Can you take my cock and my fingers at the same time?” He presses through the tight ring of muscle, and I rock back into the burn, panting around his shaft as it glides over my tongue. “Do you think I can make you come like this?” Stretching me gently, he works his cock deeper with short, deliberate thrusts. “Filling both your needy holes without ever touching your cock?” Another finger joins the first, and he jacks his hips up, driving himself to the back of my throat.
Holyfuckingshit.At this point, his words alone are almost enough to drive me over the edge, the low gravel of his voice hitting me on a subsonic level. When he adds a third finger and twists, pegging my prostate, my molecules fly apart with the last of my thoughts.
He might have spent his life being emotionally submissive, but I’m starting to suspect there’s a sexual dominant lurking behind the filthy talk he gifts me with when he lets his guard down.
I’ll take everything he’s willing to give.
He brings his knees up, planting his feet, and now I’m clinging to his thighs, choking with every ruthless buck of his hips and writhing into the relentless pump of his fingers. I’m someplace beyond arousal, half gone already, my cock leaking on his chest. The sounds we make together weave an obscene symphony—wet slap and suction, Byrd’s harsh grunts, and my own aborted, keening gasps.
Every wave of pleasure rides the edge of pain, and my body thrills to it—to beingusedby him. To feel him straining at the end of his leash and know that I drove him there.
“Fuck, baby, I’m gonna come,” he warns.
Baby. Heat spools through my trembling limbs as his rhythm quickens, and I clench around his fingers to the stutter of my heart.
He sinks his teeth into my inner thigh, pulsing on my tongue, and coats my ravaged throat with his release. I swallow every drop, and when his sweat-slick chest arches up against my deprived, delirious cock and his fingers curl cruelly inside me one last time, lightning bursts along my spine.
My head snaps back, releasing him with a scrape of teeth before I bite down and everything goes electric, a white stormexploding from my center to crash against the confines of my skin.
When I regain my boneless body, I’m lying on my back, and the moon is rising over the trees. Byrd is stretched out beside me, head propped on one curled bicep, fingers tracing lightly over my hip.
“Are you okay?” I ask, stupidly, and then burst out laughing. He winces at the hoarse sound.
“I think that’s my line,” he says ruefully.
