Page 45 of Kiss of Frost

Green spilled over my vision. I surged up and gripped his throat. “Don’t read me.”

He grabbed my wrist. “I can’t control it. Your need is too—”

“Don’t,” I said, tipping his jaw up with my thumb. “If you read me, I’ll stop. So control it. Understand?”

Lust flickered in his eyes. His throat worked under my hand as he swallowed. “I understand.”

Gaze locked with his, I reached between us and stroked his dick, my hand gliding easily up and down the strange, slick material of his trousers. His rigid length leapt under my palm, and he pushed his hips forward, wordlessly asking for more, faster, now.

I moved my free hand from his throat to the nipple I’d sucked, and I kept up my strokes on his dick as I pinched the damp peak. His breath shuddered as I leaned in and closed my teeth over his earlobe. “I could make you come like this. Would you like that?” He gave a noncommittal grunt, and I reached lower and cupped his balls. “Make you empty these in your fancy trousers with all these fucking pockets.”

He gave a weak, startled laugh. “Now my pockets offend you?” The laugh turned into a moan as I squeezed his sack. I kneaded gently, testing the weight in my hand, and he rewarded me with another plaintive sound.

“Your trousers offend me.” I spun us and shoved him away, panting like I’d just sprinted up a flight of stairs. “Take them off.”

He smiled and did me one better, twisting into shadow form and quickly shifting back. The light from the fire caressed his bare skin. I seized his hips and jerked him into me.

“Good lad,” I growled. Then I sank to my knees.

His eyes widened. “Graeme…”

I brushed a soft kiss over his cockhead. My lips grazed his slit, and I licked the moisture that beaded there. Fire and salt spread over my tongue. I groaned as I brushed my face over his shaft, letting his hot, silky length caress my cheek. His smoky scent invaded my lungs. Pleasure shuddered through me as I kissed the crease where his leg joined the rest of his body. I nuzzled his heavy sack, dragging more of his scent into my lungs.

His fingers slid into my hair and gently tugged me back. Lust and something infinitely deeper shimmered in his eyes as he gazed down at me.

“I want to suck you,” I said. “Will you let me?”

He nodded mutely, then ran a hand down my face to my beard. He made no move to draw me forward. Just cupped my cheek and looked at me, his gaze steady…and knowing. True to his word, he restrained his power. He didn’t tunnel into my desires, but he knew me.

How did a boy know so much?

The answer trembled in my chest—and I realized it had replaced the ache. The pain was gone. The surprise of it parted my lips, and it was the most natural thing in the world to lean forward and take Callum into my mouth. My eyes slid shut as the smooth, rounded surface of his cockhead flattened my tongue. He groaned, and I blinked my eyes open so I could see him.

I had to see him.

He was a painting above me, the slopes and angles of his handsome face touched with sunlight. The thick muscles in his chest tightened as he looked up at the ceiling and moaned. I grasped his hips and sucked him deeper, drawing his salty taste to the back of my throat. I pulled back and swirled my tongue around and under his cockhead, teasing the taut, delicate band of skin where his tip met his shaft.

“Gods,” he gasped, bucking gently. His cock twitched and pulsed, the shaft wet and heavy. The veins scraped the corners of my lips. His grunts fell around my ears. I pulled back a bit so I could lick up his length. Holding his stare, I ran my tongue from his cockhead to his base and back again. Then I surged forward, taking him to the back of my throat.

“Shit,” he whimpered, widening his stance. He cupped his hands around my head, his fingers clenching in my hair as I bobbed on his dick. “Fuck. Fuck, Graeme.”

He leaked on my tongue, and I swallowed and swallowed and couldn’t get enough. I sucked hard, hunting for more of his taste as I slid a hand around his hip to his smooth, firm ass. I delved between his cheeks, finding the tight whorl of his entrance and pressing gently.

He groaned and jerked his hips in short, sharp thrusts. His fingers tightened in my hair.

I traced circles around his hole as I let him fuck my mouth. His thrusts grew deeper and less coordinated. Saliva dribbled from my lips and into my beard. The floorboards dug into my knees. My dick was a thick, hot rod between my legs. But these discomforts were of no consequence. Not with Callum’s cockhead nailing the back of my throat and his taste filling my mouth. Not with his tight, hot pucker gasping against my finger.

His breathing grew uneven, and his thighs began to tremble. I pushed my finger into his ass, and he let out a choked sob. He tipped his head down, his mouth slack as he watched his glistening cock tunnel in and out of my mouth. I pushed my finger deeper, grazing his gland. He clamped his hole around me and pumped his hips faster.

“Close,” he grunted. “So close.”

I wrenched my mouth away.

“Fuck!” He clutched at my shoulders, his wet dick bobbing wildly. His ass squeezed my finger, and his expression was savage as he swayed on his feet. “Finish me!”

I rested my free hand on his thigh and leaned in, letting his slick cockhead brush my lips. “You want to come?”

He pressed his hips forward, pushing his drooling slit against my mouth. “Finish me,” he rasped, and now his tone verged on begging.

---