Page 65 of Not Dating Material

“Open your shirt, and let me see it.”

I shift so my knee is under him, hips taking his weight, and undo my shirt with my free hand while my other continues to explore. The second my tattoo is revealed, Molly moans and buries his face in my neck.

“Still can’t believe you did that,” he murmurs.

“I like good art.” Sure, that’s the reason. It has nothing to do with his stupid octopus reminding me of him every time I catch a glimpse of it. Nothing to do with how it makes me smile stupidly and want to seek him out.

The desperation I’m feeling for him is sizzling under my skin. Making me reckless, like I can do anything. And if we’re doing this, we’re doing it. One time, leaving no regrets on the table.

I draw him into a filthy, open-mouthed kiss. My tongue fights with his, lips hard and demanding, needing to pour all my want and lust into this moment together.

Molly’s arms tighten around my neck as his hips rut forward, subconsciously seeking friction that I’m desperate to give him.

It’s a challenge to get his shorts open with one hand, but the second his fly is down, his cock springs out. Urg, he’s commando.

The heat from his shaft fills my palm as I wrap my hand around him. He’s leaking and already desperate, hips giving a sexy little shudder when I touch him.

“Seven …” he gasps. “Keep going. Keep touching me.”

My mouth finds his again, tongue exploring as I jerk him off. I rub his tip with my thumb as I stroke and squeeze from base to tip, alternating between palming his smooth balls and trying to milk him for everything he’s got.

The breathy little noises, the way his hips thrust into my hand, it’s all doing it for me. My cock is rock hard and begging for release, but it doesn’t get to play until Molly is satisfied. He’s gripping my shoulder with one hand, the other clasped over the back of my head, deepening the kiss, trembling in my hold.

His mouth breaks from mine suddenly, and Molly grunts, head dropping back against the wall as he looks down at where I’m gripping him.

“I’m … Oh, fuck …” He spills into my hand, cock twitching with the pressure of his release, and I wait him out, milking each drop of pleasure from his body. When he finally relaxes against me, I let him go, lift my hand to my mouth, and lick up every drop of cum he spilled. Molly’s eyes are sharp as he watches me, and he doesn’t fight when I close my hand over his throat. My thumb finds the underside of his jaw, and I tilt his head back, getting the perfect angle to bring my mouth back down over his.

Molly hums into the kiss, his cum sliding from my tongue onto his and back again. Sharing his taste between us has me craving release, needing to let go. Kissing Molly isn’t like kissing anyone else, though, because every time we start, I never want it to end.

His legs slide from my grip and find the floor, pulling him from me.

“I need to taste you now.”

I glance toward the door, less scared someone will catch us and more wanting to bar the door and make sure no one can stop this. Ever.

“Get on your knees,” I croak.

But Molly sidesteps me and turns us so it’s my back against the wall this time. His hands slide down my arms as he folds delicately to his knees, and when he looks up through his lashes, I already know I’m a dead man.

Molly’s sweet smile has turned wicked, and he guides my hands behind my back and clasps both wrists together. There’s no human way he’d be able to keep me restrained like this, but the illusion of it is enough for me to tilt my hips forward, inviting him for more.

He holds both wrists in one hand as the other tugs down my fly, then pulls the front of my briefs down and hooks them under my balls. As soon as my cock is free, he leans in, running his face down my length and inhaling deeply.

“You smell incredible.”

“Uh-huh. Great. Kinda in pain here though.”

Molly’s chuckle is cool against my overheated skin. “Pain? Whatever for?”

I whine, thrusting forward to encourage him. I’m tempted to free my hands and grip his hair, but Molly taking control really does it for me. “Don’t tease me.”

“Now, where’s the fun in that?”

“Fun? There’s lots of fun. So much fun in coming, and I’d really like to get to that part.”

He flicks his tongue over my crown, making me hiss. “Tell me you don’t like it.”

“Molly …”

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