Page 112 of Dear Mr. Brody

Parker pulled back the blanket on my bed as I watched him from the bathroom doorway. Chilled, I rubbed my towel over my damp skin one last time before tossing it in my hamper. We’d taken a shower after everyone left about an hour ago. He’d already ditched his towel, standing naked, the muscled globes of his ass flexed as he moved. His back was chiseled, his broad shoulders carved to perfection. He was power and strength personified, and I was about to give him my body.

“What are you doing way over there?” he asked, giving me a crooked grin as he sat on the bed. “You look cold.”

“Are you saying my dick looks small?”

Laughing, he said, “There is nothing small about your dick. And if you get your ass over here, I’ll show you just how much I like it.”

I hummed and made my way over to the bed, trying to ignore the lube sitting on the nightstand. Parker’s warm hands cupped my ass as he nuzzled his nose into my groin. I threaded my fingers through his hair, and he leaned back.

“You don’t have to,” he said. “What we already have… it’s good, Van. I’m good.”

“I want to.” I ran my knuckles across the arch of his cheek. “I want to at least try.”

“And you swear to fucking God you’ll tell me to stop if you don’t like it?”

“I swear to fucking God,” I said, his honest concern making me smile. “If it’s too much I’ll tell you.”

His fingertips tickled the backs of my thighs as he spoke. “Consent is important to me.”

“I know.”

“And I never want to hurt you.”

“I know.”

“And—”

“Parker. I want you to fuck me.”

He bit the corner of his lip, his blue eyes fixed on mine. I waited for him to say something, but all he gave me was a quiet nod of his head. He moved to the other side of the bed, leaving enough room for me to lie next to him. He propped himself up onto his elbow, a strand of his dirty blond hair falling into his eyes as he looked down at me.

“I meant it when I said what we already have is enough.” I started to speak but he covered my mouth with his hand, and I chuckled. “Listen. I know what you want, and believe me, I’m fucking ready for it, but what you’re giving me, what you’ve already given me, it means something to me.” He raised his hand, tracing my lips with his finger. “And I wanted you to know that.”

I took his wrist in my hand and kissed his palm. “It means something to me too.”

It means I think I’ve fallen for you. It means I think I love you. It means have me. It means I’m yours.

Parker sat up and leaned over me, his hands on either side of my head. The weight and heat of his body covered me, and I was no longer cold. His lips pressed against mine, a low moan rumbling in his chest as I raised my hips, rutting against him. Wet kisses marked my neck, my chest, and my stomach. With one hand he hooked my right leg over his shoulder. He’d seen me like this before, but tonight his slow perusal of my body was more intense. Like kindling to a fire, heat ignited low in my stomach, rising with his gaze, it colored my chest and neck. Parker licked his thumb, his eyes never leaving mine as he rubbed it against my hole. I shuddered, desperate to close my eyes but wanting to keep them open too. He held my gaze as he lowered his head, as his tongue swirled around the tip of my cock, as he took me to the back of his throat.

“God,” I gasped, my fingers twisting into his hair, my voice breaking as he swallowed. “Park.”

He sat up and took a breath, pushing my legs to my chest. I gripped the backs of my thighs and gave in to the urge to close my eyes as the tip of his nose trailed through the hair on my legs to my groin. He licked a line down the length of my shaft, taking my balls into his mouth, and I moaned his name again. I almost dropped my legs, wanting to bury my hands in his hair, but when the hot pressure of his tongue pushed into my ass, I forgot to care about anything else.

“I love that sound,” he said, and I realized I’d started to whimper.

He fucked me with his tongue, the soft intrusion almost too much to take. It wasn’t enough, and I found myself muttering the wordsmoreandpleasethe longer he tasted me, teased me.

“You want more?” he asked and crawled over my body.

I dropped my aching legs as he stroked my cock, pre-come leaking onto my stomach, and said, “Yes. Please... yes.”

He reached toward the nightstand for the lube, and my heart gave two unsteady beats before finding its rhythm again. Parker bent down and kissed me, deep and sweet, but when I heard the click of the bottle opening, I froze.

“It’s okay,” he whispered the words into the corner of my mouth before he kissed me again. “Tell me to stop, Van. Tell me if you can’t take it.”

He kissed me and kissed me, his hand stroking me slow and slow and—I was on the edge. Parker moved in small increments of time and touch, and one second my lips were raw from his rough kisses, and the next my thighs and balls felt the burn of his stubble too. He tasted me again, this time with more aggression, until I was pulling at the sheets, until a cool, slippery finger pushed inside of me, and I cried out when it brushed against my prostate. He took his time stretching me, one finger, then two. I thought about all the times I’d done this for him, tasted him, filled him, and marked him as mine. I wanted it. Wanted to be his, marked and full and…

“Ahh…” My eyes slammed shut as he slipped in a third finger. “God, I…”

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