Page 60 of Winging It with You

Our lips brush, briefly at first, savoring each other’s sweetness. But the newness of kissing likethiswhen it’s just for us draws us in deeper, and we quickly lose ourselves in a dance of frenzied hands, rolled hips, and muffledoh my gods.

“Our rules…” Theo breathes against my lips. I hadn’t realized we’d slowly been moving backward until my back firmly presses against a brick wall. My skin feels like it’s been set ablaze under his touch. The warmth of his grip around my wrist, his other hand clawing tightly at my waist. The burn from his scruff as his lips learn the shape of mine, taking his time to memorize every line and dip. I gasp against his kisswhen he shifts his erection against mine, rocking me deeper into a blissful oblivion I’d have no problem never leaving.

“Forget them,” I think I hear myself say, which feels both nothing like me and also the most honest thing I’ve said aloud in a really long time.

“Mmm, good,” he says, his mouth trailing along my neck and back again until his lips are at my ear. “I need to get you home.” My stomach does a backflip hearing him call our hotel room that.

“Here’s fine,” I breathe, locking my fingers in the thick hair at the base of his neck, arching into him and bringing his lips to mine once more.

He slides his hand from my waist down the front of my jeans, and grabs my straining cock with a squeeze. “What I want to do to you requires alittlemore privacy.” Theo laughs against my mouth, a deep, throaty sound that I don’t think I’ll ever grow tired of hearing.

Especially like this.

Fuck.

He breaks away, and every nerve ending screams in protest. “Come on,” he says, pulling my hand after him. We zigzag through the streets, backtracking to the hotel as quickly as two nonlocals can, stopping every so often to press against whatever surface is available, our lips claiming each other in the briefest, most desperate of ways.

What a sight we must be—a pair of American fools, all clumsy hands and hurried tongues, so obviously drunk in lust and lost in the magic of the city. The hotel comes into view as we round a final corner, and we cross the marbled lobby, stepping into the elevator bank. Both of Theo’s hands grip my wrist, an inescapable vise as he presses his cock against my ass,and my lips are back on his the second we’re behind elevator doors.

When the door to our hotel room is firmly shut behind us, Theo wastes no time pushing me against it, his hands and mouth and hips now moving in sync. One second, he’s drawn me back to his mouth, our tongues dancing between ragged breaths, and the next, he’s dragging his fingertips down my chest, lowering to his knees as he unfastens my jeans.

“Can I?” he asks, looking up at me with fire behind hooded eyes as one hand massages my bulge over my jeans, the other trailing slowly just beneath the band of my briefs. My brain wrestles to form a coherent thought, but the sight of him on his knees before me, his full lips parted and chest rising, is too much. I nod.

He slides the hem of my shirt up, exposing a whole new area of skin he has yet to touch. He trails his fingertips, then his lips, across my hip bone, slowly and with intention, like he’s committing every inch of me to memory. My hands instinctively wind themselves into his hair, begging to have him closer. Theo’s teasing me now as his mouth drags lower and lower. His hot breath following every swath of skin his tongue has just skimmed over sends waves of goose bumps under his touch.

Having been at odds this entire time, my mind and body seem to finally come to some kind of mutual agreement. “Please,” I pant, arching into the doorway, and Theo’s fingers dip behind my briefs. “Please, Theo.”

He grips my hips, squeezing so tightly I hope I’ll be marked by his touch forever as he traces the lines of my body with his tongue. He slides my jeans and trunks down, freeing my cock and finally ending his relentless torture. Theo looks up at me,his eyes dark and hungrier than before. Without breaking eye contact, he places soft kisses, one after the other, on my tip. But when they start to linger, his wet lips sliding open and his tongue tracing the shape of me, a groan of desire escaping from his chest, I nearly black out.

“You’re perfect,” he breathes, his breath dancing on my skin.

Theo takes me fully in his mouth, slowly at first, but then like a man driven by an innate need to please. His hands squeeze my ass, pulling me deeper down his throat with seemingly little to no effort, and I know that after what has felt like an eternity of teasing, his expert mouth won’t allow me to last long.

“Oh, fuck,” I hiss, or at least I think I do, because the way he’s slurping down my dick has officially scrambled any hold I had on reality. Each glide of his tongue brings me one second closer to the edge.

My breathing is erratic, and my vision is starting to blur as the primal urge to finish builds around me. “That mouth…” I pant, thrusting my hips forward to meet him.

Theo must sense I’m getting close, his movements laced with a selfless enthusiasm, and just before each and every strand that’s keeping me firmly planted in this moment is snipped, he slides a finger, slick from his spit, against my ass, a torturous addition to the most delicious and unforeseen crescendo.

“I’m not finished with you just yet, Ash,” Theo says slowly, his voice just a whisper, after trailing the length of my shaft with his warm tongue. I want to scream, ask him how he has the audacity to drag me to the brink of ecstasy like this only to inform me I’m not allowed to go barreling over that cliff.

My hands claw at his hair, gently pulling him upward in mydirection. Driven by lust or impatience or some other unseemly need, all I know is that if Theo Fernandez keeps teasing my cock with those perfect lips of his, I won’t last another second. “Come here,” I choke out between breaths. I hear the hollowed sharpness of my voice, a sound so desperate that under any other circumstances I just might be embarrassed.

But when I peer down to look at Theo, the only thought I’m physically able to concoct is getting him on his feet, free of the clothes separating me from his naked body.

“If you say so,” he says, slowly standing up, then immediately pressing me back against the door. I feel the strain in his pants and instinctually reach for it, marveling at the firmness beneath the fabric.

Theo trails his lips along my neck, sending chills down my spine, and when his mouth reaches the corner of my jaw, he traps my earlobe between his teeth, leaving me frozen on the spot. “Asher, I need you. All of you.”

His words are my undoing. I push him off me, forcing him back toward our bed, and kick off my shoes and my pants as we go.

I clumsily reach for his shirt, aggressively pulling it up from the hem over his head, and revel at the smoothness of his skin as the backs of his knees collide with the footboard of the bed frame.

A throaty laugh escapes Theo’s lips when I impatiently push him down onto the bed and one by one pull off his shoes, not caring where they land. His pants are next, the only barrier to what I need. Theo lifts his hips when I fumble with the button before I peel the dark denim over his thick, muscular thighs and down the length of his long legs, his grey briefs with it.

And there he is.

Naked, on display, and throbbing just for me.

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