Page 43 of Filthy Sweet

Owen tries to swallow his smile. “Oh? And what makes you think I want to do all the nasty things you’ve been dreaming up?” he challenges me.

I laugh. “I’m the nasty one?”

Owen breaks out in a loud laugh, blushing and loving this. “Well, I’ve been thinking of a few things, too,” he tells me, defiant, then stands. “Maybe you’ll be the one who’s overwhelmed this time.”

I grin, standing to full height, my body just barely touching his, then drag my finger along the side of his head, tracing the spot that makes him quiver. “Last time you came over, I sent you home with cum dripping out of your hole and smeared across your stomach, but we left your pretty face all clean.” I pull my hand over to his chin, then rub my thumb on his bottom lip, playing with the spot he bites. “I think we can do better this time, don’t you?”

Owen sucks in a shaky breath, then bites down on my thumb. “Maybe,” he teases, and his lips purse around my thumb.

That’s all it takes. Owen sucks my thumb into his mouth, and then we tear our clothes off each other. We fall to the big black rug, kissing and groaning until Owen crawls down to my cock. He takes it in his hand expertly and works my tip with his lips, and the next thing I know, I’ve mounted his face, pausing only long enough to take his glasses off. I plow him, thrusting harder and harder into his mouth as Owen jerks himself and moans his approval, begging for more.

I manage to hold back my roaring orgasm until Owen comes with a full-body convulsion. My dick sliding across his lips, he tilts his eyes up to me and paints his release across his cheeks, smearing it on his pretty features and glopping it in his beard.

The look of it pushes me over the edge. A powerful climax surges through me, and I pull my dick out just in time to spray his face, adding to the beautiful mess.

Owen blinks at me. His lips are puffy and red, and semen drips across his stunned, delirious expression.

“Damn,” he says with a slow breath.

I take him by the back of the head and pull him in for a messy kiss. “Yeah. Damn.” I reach behind him and grab a towel from the bar, which I offer. “If you want it.”

Owen laughs and takes it. “Yeah,” he says, wiping his eyes. “I think I actually need it this time.” He reaches for his glasses, then carefully slides them back on as he licks his lips. “Thanks for that, by the way. Getting my face painted was definitely on top of the sexual wish list.”

“Oh yeah?” I lean back against the lounge, still on the rug and facing Owen, who is sprawled on his elbows. “What else is on that list?”

Owen sits up a little more. “I don’t know. Lots of stuff, I guess.”

“Demure now, after the cum bath?”

He laughs. “Maybe I am.”

I lean forward and arch an eyebrow. “I bet I can lure it out of you. You’ve got those soft, puffy, dick-sucking lips. I can’t resist at least trying.”

Owen squirms for me but doesn’t break eye contact. “A gentleman doesn’t tell his secrets.”

My eyes trail down to his half-hard cock, then back to his face. “I’ll see how much of a gentleman you are when I finally get my tongue in that sweet hole.”

Owen’s mouth pops open. Then he laughs and finally looks away. “See? That’s not fair.”

“What’s not fair?”

He turns back to me. “You can get stuff out of me so easily, but you’re still keeping all your own secrets.”

I blink, caught off guard by that one. “What?”

Owen pulls his knees up to his chest. “Sorry. I think I just feel vulnerable after I have sex or something.”

My chest aches. Shit. If Owen isn’t happy, then what the hell am I doing?

“You don’t have to apologize,” I tell him, then push my leg over so it’s touching his. “And you don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to.”

He reaches out and rubs my leg, stroking it beneath the knee. “I know. But thanks for saying that.”

I consider him for a second and quickly realize what I should do. In a lot of ways, it’s just another bad fucking idea. But it feels right, and I trust Owen, so the words come tumbling out before I can think better of it.

“The way I signed Phoenix Sunset,” I tell him. “You want to hear that story?”

Owen raises his eyebrows. “Sure,” he says. “Definitely. If you’re okay sharing it.”

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