Page 11 of The Wayward Sons & the Seattle Sirens

My lips drifted across his hard-earned muscles. I hated working out, but fuck, I loved the body Ryder carved for himself because he did. My tongue dipped in the fine lines of his abs. That little moan he let out was perfection. I could feel how he relaxed under me—which was exactly what I wanted.

In a rush, we stripped off our pants. As my teeth grazed his inner thigh, his fingers weaved through my hair. I ran the flat of my tongue over his balls and along the length of his dick, enjoying the sigh of relief he let out.

I may not have been the best with words and emotions, but I was damn good at pulling Ryder out of his head in other ways.

Settling between his legs, I took all of him in my mouth. He let out a sharp hiss, and his fist tightened in my hair. That way his head tilted back and his lips parted spurred me on. I bobbed up and down on his dick, sucking hard and pushing him past the back of my throat each time. Salty pre-cum coated my tongue as I devoured him. I took every moan, groan, and thrust he gave me.

“Stop,” Ryder gasped, tugging me off as his body tensed. “Off, Gray. I’m not coming until I’m buried in that sexy ass of yours.”

Yes, please. He didn’t have to tell me twice. As he swiped the lube out of the nightstand, I straddled him. Impatiently, I waited for him to coat his dick before lining up. All I wanted was him inside me.

“Slow,” he ordered, his fingers digging into my hip bones as the crown of his dick pressed past that tight ring of muscles. God, my body was fucking ready for him. Slow wasn’t what I wanted. Still, I lowered onto him with a groan. The inch-by-inch pace was agonizing, and his hold on me was bruising. I may have been on top, but he was in full control—a fact I had no problem with. When he bottomed out, he rasped, “Fuck, you feel so goddamn good, honey.”

I said something. Sort of. The angle and the way he stretched me was dizzying—the kind of rush I wanted to dive into. And just sitting there? Without moving? It was pure torture. My body buzzed, desperate to feel him moving inside me. My cock throbbed with a need to be touched.

“Fuck, baby,” I let out. “I need to move.”

“No,” he replied. “Hold still, Gray.”

Jesus fucking Christ, the man tested me. His hand wrapped around my dick, stroking meticulously. I moaned and braced on his chest as I felt the simple movement from head to toe. His fist worked me base-to-tip, grazing that bundle of nerves under my crown with every pull.

Liquid heat melted down my spine as the pressure in my balls built. Fuck, I wouldn’t last if he kept doing that.

“Ride my cock, honey,” Ryder said.

“Yes, Sir,” I murmured, not needing to be told twice. I moved up and down his length, my moans growing louder. One hand gripped my ass as he guided me over his dick in controlled movements. The other kept stroking me. Up and down. Faster and faster. My fingers curled against his shoulders, seeking something to ground myself to as every nerve in my body fired in overdrive.

Fuck, I saw stars.

I was right fucking there.

And then he stopped. He sat upright, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me down on him until his cock filled me completely. His teeth scraped my ear. I shuddered and moaned, my whole body alive in a myriad of sensations. Everywhere his hands roamed set my skin on fire.

“Fuck me,” I whispered in a mixture of frustration and a plea.

“Not yet.” His lips brushed along my jawline, and my head tipped back automatically for him. “Not until you’re desperate to come and beg like a good boy for me.”

Fuck me. Words like that got me every time.

Ryder took his time as the intensity of everything began to wane. His mouth drifted down my neck in a pattern of light bites and kisses. I was a panting mess when I dragged his lips to mine, my tongue seeking out his. When I did, one hand grasped my ass and urged me to move again.

“Keep going, honey… just like that,” he whispered as I followed his lead and settled into a slow but steady pace. “You take my cock so well, Gray.”

The moments when Ryder’s dirty mouth really came out were some of my favorites. That combined with the praise fucking did me in. I struggled to keep the pace he set, desperate for more.

His hand moved between us, and he fisted my dick once more. He skated up and down my throbbing length while my fingers dug into his shoulders. Every nerve fired in excess, especially as he leaned back enough to change the angle. His cock stroked my prostate with every pass. I was a hot mess—on fire head-to-toe and needy as fuck.

Tangling my fingers in his hair, my mouth crashed into his. Tongues battling. Moaning. Teeth scraping skin. I was fucking flying—lost in everything that he gave me. I was right there, my dick weeping in his hand and my balls drawing up tight.

“Stop,” he ordered once more. One strong arm wrapped tight around my waist to pin me down on him.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I muttered. Breathing hard, my forehead tipped to his shoulder as he let go of my dick. “You’re killin’ me, baby.”

“You like it.” The confidence in his words wasn’t lost on me. And I fucking did. The build-up was a rush I couldn’t get anywhere else in my life. No one could do to my body what Ryder could.

“Still killin’ me.”

“I like you desperate for me.” His tongue ran over my Adam’s apple and up my neck. His teeth tugged on my ear, and I groaned loudly, my dick twitching against his stomach. “How badly do you want to come, Gray?”

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