Page 68 of Playing Dirty
“Fucking Christ,” he mutters.
His free hand grabs my hip while the one curled around us picks up speed. Combined with the pressure he’s holding beneath my tip, bumping and brushing against the sensitive spot with every thrust he makes, I can already feel myself coming undone.
My body may as well have been lit on fire, and no amount of water pouring over us is enough to douse the flames. So I just ride out the blaze, my hips thrusting and tilting toward him.
“Shit, I’m not gonna last,” I rasp.
A breathy little laugh leaving him before he grinds out, “Fuck, me neither.”
When I open my eyes, I find his gaze fixated on my face, watching my reaction to the blissfully wicked way he’s torturing us. Because that’s what this is—torture and bliss, wrapped into every stroke.
The heat of his bare skin, the lust in his gaze, the water pouring over us, the tight sheath his foreskin creates around my cock…it’s all too much.
“God, Mads. Kiss me,” I plead.
Despite the request, I don’t wait for him to do it, grabbing the back of his neck and crashing his mouth to mine. We’re the furthest thing from gentle, gnashing together in a frantic search for release. My hips buck forward, my grip on his bicep bruising, and I’m overcome with a desperation I’ve never experienced before.
But then his teeth sink into my lower lip, hard enough for me to tasteblood, and I’m sent skyrocketing into the stratosphere.
I whimper against his lips as I fall apart, my orgasm slamming through me like a wrecking ball. Cum bursts free from my cock, flooding the tight channel he’s created until it starts seeping out around his hand.
“Shit, that’s so hot,” Madden hisses, his cock pulsing against mine.
As if that’s all he needed to come unglued, his movements turn frenzied while he stokes himself over the edge. A little moan slips out as his climax takes over, and more warm liquid fills the sleeve of skin pulled taut over our heads, mixing with my own release and leaking from the seam where we’re joined.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” I pant, staring down at the white, sticky mess we’ve made.
My entire body slumps back against the shower wall, allowing it to bear most of my weight. Madden follows suit, his forearm coming to rest on the tile above my shoulder and his forehead landing against mine. We breathe in each other’s air, desperately trying to catch our breath and slow our racing hearts, but it’s difficult with the hot water still pouring down over us.
I blindly fumble for the handle, knocking it toward lukewarm, and take a long, steadying breath.
“Was that okay?” he asks, his voice raspy. “It wasn’t too much?”
Is he serious?
I blink a few times, because…did he not just experience that? How in his right mind could he think it would ever be too much? If anything, it wasn’t enough. I want more. I don’t think an orgasm has ever left me at a loss for words before, but shit. All I know is I’m a huge fan of everything we just did.
“I think we should’ve done that like…yesterday,” I admit once I can manage to string together my thoughts into a coherent sentence. Even still, my mind is reeling from everything about the encounter.
He pulls back, and there’s a moment where his gaze scrapes over my face, clearly measuring my words, before he finally relaxes the slightest bit.
“I just don’t want to push you too far.”
I frown, not feeling that way in the slightest. “Well, for the record, I’m willing to try most things at least once.”
I like to think I’m explorative and open when it comes to sex, and while everything about being with Madden is new simply because he’s a guy, it’s not gonna change that. If anything, it only adds to the list of possibilities I’d never considered before.
My gaze drops down to where the two of us are still joined, despite our cocks softening. Our cum leaks from where the seal isn’t tight anymore, dripping in strings to the tile floor before disappearing down the drain.
“Shit, is that what I’m missing all the time by being cut?”
Madden’s gentle laugh is muffled by my skin when he drops his head into the crook of my neck. “I mean, I wouldn’t know.”
“That was rhetorical.” A little chuckle slips out, and I shake my head. “Fuck. As if I needed another reason to hate my dad. But here we are, adding circumcision to the list.”
A long, low groan leaves him, and his forehead rolls over my shoulder when he shakes his head.
“Ugh. Can wenottalk about parents or circumcision while my foreskin is still wrapped around your cock?”
