Page 11 of The Himbo and the Lord

“Of course I do.”

“Really? Because your indecision outside and that frown you’re wearing aren’t giving me great vibes.”

I feel my cheeks burn when I realise he knows it was me pacing outside, and I curse inwardly. I never could stop a blush, and my typical English complexion does nothing to help me.

But then another thought strikes me.

Does that mean he was keeping an eye on the time? Was he waiting for me?

This time I blush for real, and hold on . . . Did his dick just twitch? I watch transfixed as a bead of precum forms on the end. My own dick responds and hardens in record time. Oh yes, I do want to be here, very much so.

“Look,” he starts. “I know?—”

No, not another fucking conversation. I close the gap between us in two steps, and grabbing his face, I shut him up the best way I know how.

It does the trick, and he lets me take control this time, opening straight away for me. I find that insanely hot, and I want to show him how much I want to be here. I slide my hands over his arse—fuck, they’re perfect globes—and I can’t help grabbing a handful and squeezing them hard.

“Fuck yeah,” he groans, and I pull him tight against me so he can feel how hard I am too. I keep kneading his arse, pulling his cheeks apart. I feel him shudder and I do it again—harder. He lets out a low moan, his mouth disconnecting from mine as his head falls back. I file that bit of information away.

I trail my lips down his neck and nip along his collarbone, hearing his breath hitch slightly. I move lower, my tongue seeking out the firm bud of his nipple. The “yes” he hisses as I bite down on it travels straight to my balls, and I sink to my knees.

I wrap my hand round his erection, giving it a couple of pumps before sucking the tip into my mouth, savouring the first taste. I run my other hand over his arse, squeezing his cheek again, my fingers reaching for his hole. I freeze as a thought snags in my brain, something we should’ve established first. I pop off him, and look up.

He looks like a picture, his throat exposed and his chest heaving. His head snaps up and he stares down at me, his face twisting in frustration.

“Jesus, Ru, don’t stop!” he says with a growl that rises to a higher pitch. I smirk at him.

“I’m vers but?—”

“I’m vers too. I’m prepped, so comeon.” This sounds much more like a whine.

“Prepped already?” Again the confidence surprises me. In a different situation I’d find it arrogant, but that he’s desperate enough for me to get himself ready ignites something deep within me. “Let’s see, shall we?”

I hum as I take half of his length in one go. He moans and I smile, my lips stretching round him. He’s not small, and I’m almost sorry that he’s the one prepped as the thought of his hard dick filling me up makes my own ache and strain at my jeans even more.

Another time maybe, hopefully.

I apply my tongue to him and suck him until he’s thrusting into my mouth. I slip my fingers into his crease and gently graze his rim. The sound he makes is filthy and I want to hear it again. I slide a finger into him. He’s done a great job as I meet no resistance, and I slide it out even slower, teasing his rim again before repeating the process with two fingers.

He tangles his hands into my hair, his fingers pressing hard on my scalp. I take him deeper into my mouth, dragging my teeth as I go. He utters a low “fuck,” and arches into me. Then he’s pulling my head back gently, and I look up to see him staring down at me sternly.

“You know damn well I’m prepped, so get naked. I want to see that pretty face blushing as I make you come inside me.”

He gives me no choice as he heads over to the bed, lies down on his back propped up on his elbows, and raises an eyebrow at me. I waste little time stripping my clothes off, nearly getting tangled in my jeans in my haste. I notice the way his eyes linger on my body, a slight smile forming as his gaze rests on my cock.

I’m guessing he likes what he sees.

I kneel on the bed and run my hands up his thighs. He bends his knees, letting his legs drop to the side... an invitation.

“Do you have any condoms?” I ask, wishing I’d thought of them sooner, though less than a minute ago I was fully dressed.

“Didn’t you bring any?” he asks, and for a split second my heart stops as I think this might be as far as we get. Then he smirks at me. “What did you think I was inviting you to? Afternoon tea?”

Too late I feel the heat in my cheeks. Not that I could stop it anyway, but he seems to like it. His smirk turns into a full grin and he nods towards the nightstand.

“Don’t worry, I’m fully prepared.”

I reach over and grab one, ripping the packet open and sliding it on as fast as possible. I grab the lube he’s left there too, and spread a thin coating over my dick before kneeling back between his legs.

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