Page 32 of Love in Mission City: The Shorts

He dragged his thumb across his slit, collected precum, and slid the digit into his mouth.

Thatwas sexy as fuck.I palmed my cock in anticipation.

He pointed to the condoms and lube on the nightstand.“Did a run to the drugstore yesterday after work.”

In other words, after we’d fucked.Good, he didn’t have a stash on hand.I wasn’t the jealous type, but I also didn’t want to think about him with anyone else.Nope.He was all mine.And I intended to see it remained that way.

I crawled up the bed until I hovered over him.

“I’m fine, Dickens, honestly.”He grinned ruefully.“I swear that’s never happened before, and it’ll never happen again.”

“See that it doesn’t.”Of course I intended to keep a close eye on him.I didn’t need another fright like that.

He pressed his thumb to my brow.“Will you fuck me already?”

Just to be certain, I placed my hand against his forehead.Cool to the touch.

He snickered.“You’re about to make me hot and bothered, so don’t be thinking of checking later.”

“There are other ways to check.”

He cringed, and I winced.Yeah, so totally inappropriate.

Then he arched his hips up to meet mine, and our cocks brushed.

Heaven.

I lowered myself over him, and he opened his legs farther to welcome me.Like coming home.Somewhere comfortable.Somewhere familiar.Somewhere I wanted to return to again and again.As I dove in for a kiss, he snickered.

Surprised, I stopped.

“Just thinkingthisis going to be our first real kiss.”His eyes lit with mischief.

I wanted to tell him to shut the fuck up, but fusing our mouths together would accomplish the same thing.

And it did.

He thrust his tongue into my mouth with little preamble, and I raked my teeth along the length as I pressed my pelvis against his.His hips flexed, bringing us closer together.Reminding me I had a job to do.Sometimes the journey was as important as the destination.Today was not one of those days.Today I needed into him as quickly as I could, and I really needed him to come as quickly as he could.A passing concern about his physical health flitted through my head, but I quickly dismissed it.He’d been coherent through dinner, had drunk plenty of fluids, and very clearly knew what he wanted now.

I intended to give it to him.

I pulled back, he growled, and I grinned.I snagged the condom and wasted little time sheathing myself.I snagged the lube and coated my fingers.

He rolled his eyes.

“What?”

“I don’t need prepping.”

Perhaps not.Maybe he just liked it to go fast and hard.Sometimes I did as well.But tonight was not one of those nights.I wanted him to feel cared for.To know he was treasured.To get the sense he was important to me.Because he was.He was fucking everything to me.

As if sensing my steely resolve, he grabbed his knees and pulled his legs back and out of the way, affording me a lovely view.

I stroked his cock with one hand while I stuck my index finger into his entrance.

Our gazes held as I gauged every nuance.I stroked—he bit his lip.I slid in another finger—his pupils dilated.I scissored—he grunted.I hit his prostate—he let out a keening wail.

“More.God, Dickens, please, more.Want you in me.Now.”

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