Page 88 of I'm Your Guy
A string of curses erupts from his mouth. His fingers tighten in my hair as I work him over. “Aw, yeah,” he pants. “Ease up, though. I’m not ready to be done with you.”
My own self-control is in short supply. Feeling disobedient, I give him another good suck. Then I raise my eyes to his, as a sort of challenge.
What I find there practically knocks me back on my ass. Dark eyes on fire. His broad chest stained red from exertion, every muscle flexing as he tries to hold himself back.
The brute strength of him is unreal. The sheer will of him.
I release him with a gentle pop, as his breath saws in and out. “Come here,” he says, crooking his finger. “And lose your clothes on the way.”
There’s so much heat in my body that shedding my jeans doesn’t even cool me off. When I put my thumbs in the waistband of my briefs and ease the elastic past my straining dick, Tommaso makes a noise of appreciation.
“And to think I almost talked myself out of seeing this.”
THIRTY-ONE
Tommaso
Carter is perfect.
He has a trim, toned chest and miles of lightly freckled skin. And I can’t get enough of the dusting of cinnamon hair on his pecs. I want to skim through it with my fingertips, following it down as it gathers in a line down his flat stomach.
But what really blows my mind is the hard length of his erection, bobbing in front of me like a heat-seeking missile. He wants this as much as I do, and I can hardly believe my luck.
If he has a kink for athletes with messy lives, I should really just be grateful.
“Come here.” I sit up, my gruff voice showing just how much I’m dying inside. I pat my bare thigh. “Right here.”
He straddles my legs, his knees on the rug, his hands on my shoulders. “How’s this?” he asks, like he knows he’s killing me, and he’s enjoying the torture.
“That’ll do,” I whisper. I want his mouth on mine, but I don’t take it yet. I run my hands over his bare chest and feel the hitch in his breath. “You like that?”
“Fuck yes.” He tips his head back, exposing his neck. “I’m trying not to pounce on you. But it’s hard.”
“Yes it is,” I agree. “So hard.” I run my hand down his flank and then finally allow myself to take him in hand, the thick column of him hot against my palm.
“More,” he gasps, hips rolling. “I like it a little rough.”
God. I tighten my grip, and just the sight of my hand on his cock makes my balls feel heavy and tight.
This shouldn’t feel so shockingly good. I’ve handled a dick before—my own—but I’m electric as he leans into my touch. So eager, so in tune with me.
“Give me your mouth,” I demand. If I don’t kiss him, I’ll die.
He complies, and I’m right there, sliding my tongue over his, making him moan. He scoots closer, extinguishing the space between us. The first contact of his cock against my erection makes me hiss.
“Oh yeah,” he pants. Then he licks his palm and slides his hand between our bodies, knocking my fingers out of the way. “My turn.”
I allow it, because his hand covering both our cocks feels divine. Plus, it frees up my hands for other things. Like pulling his hair as I kiss him senseless. It’s almost too much sensation for a guy who never touches anyone. Our mouths are fused together, our bodies like a writhing serpent.
The urge to come is breaking me. I groan deeply into his mouth, almost ready to give up the fight.
“Let go,” he says. “I’m ready for it. Make a mess of me.”
And that’s the image that sends me over the edge. My body ignites like a power surge, and I paint his chest with my release. The sight of my spend on his flushed skin is so perfect that I shudder and gasp.
“Fuck yes,” he whispers as I knock his hand away.
I’m clumsy from the high, but he doesn’t seem to mind. He leans into my touch as I jack him quickly. It isn’t long before he thrusts his face into my neck, then shudders as he comes.
