Page 65 of Cherry Picking
Each curse spurs me on, collecting some of the spit coating his shaft and balls on a finger that I bring back to put pressure on his entrance.
“Yes,” he hisses, hips hammering into my throat.
I still him with a hand on his hip and slowly—so fucking slowly—work him open with the one finger. When his legs start to shake, I pull out and reach blindly around the couch until I find the nearly empty bottle of lube stashed between the cushions.
I pull off his cock for just a moment to breathe and grin, then sink two lubed fingers into his hole that gives like butter. He falls forward, rocks back on my fingers, and shoots a hand to his cock to jack it to the rhythm I finger-fuck him.
“Baby. I’m not done with that.” I hold out my tongue, and he places the tip of his dick against it, pooling precum in my mouth.
“I love your mouth,” he says as his body begins to tremble. “But I want to coat you in cum. Please, Riley, let me claim you.”
I give his dick one solid suck before dropping my head back and giving him permission to do with my body what he pleases. His ass clenches around my fingers as they twist and crook inside him, and the moment I tag his prostate he jolts and loses his rhythm.
The hand in my hair tightens to a painful degree that makes me gasp, and the other digs into my shoulder with the force to bruise.
“Two isn’t enough,” he grunts, thrusting back hard and groaning loud when I squeeze a third finger in. “Fuck you. Cock. Need your cock.”
“What about what I need?”
Griff looks down at me through hazy eyes, sweat soaking his shirt and dripping down his neck, chest heaving with every labored breath.
“What do you need, babe? Fuck. Tell me, and I’ll give it to you.”
“Even if it means you don’t get what you want?”
His brows draw together, and his throat bobs, but even with how needy and desperate he is, Griff nods. He loosens his hand in my hair and cradles the back of my head.
“I love you, Riley Easton. Whatever you need; it’s yours.”
I close my eyes and savor the gentle squeeze of his fingers, revel in the twin sounds of our breathing, and when our gazes meet again, my mind is made up.
Decision set in stone.
I’m a selfish, broken man.
Who will ask the world of the man he loves before burning it to the ground.
CHAPTER 16
GRIFFIN
If I could relivethis day, I’m sure there’s something I’d do differently. I don’t know what, because it felt like the perfect amalgamation of two years of pent up feelings finally being let out into the open.
There were no warning signs. No hidden clues.
Everything was perfect.
Then, it was gone.
12:05AM
Stark naked on his back, hard muscles clenched as I lap at his dick, and tight hole fluttering around the finger stretching him open—Riley Easton is a fucking sex god.
We’ve never switched around before, but when my boyfriend says he wants to experience a prostate orgasm, who the hell am I to deny him? Especially when he looks this hot wrecked out on one fucking finger.
And my tongue. I may have spent a long time eating out his perfect ass before we got here. Anyone who has seen the hockey butt on this man would understand what a damn pleasure it is to taste.
“You good?” I ask, because while I hope like fucking hell he is, he has no experience bottoming, and I want him to know it’s fine if this doesn’t work out.
