Page 103 of Breakaway Goals
Keeping the noise in was impossible, but Hayes tried.
“No, no,” Morgan argued breathlessly. “Let me hear you, baby. I wanna hear you. Imagined you like this so many goddamn times.”
Morgan’s words were like a shock to his spine, to his skin, to his cock. Bowing him, remaking him,unmakinghim.
He slid down Hayes’ body, tugging his shorts and his briefs as he went, and Hayes only had a brief moment to prepare for the white-hot heat of Morgan’s mouth before it was closing over his dick.
Hayes knew he should take advantage of the view. Shouldlook. Even if the sight of Morgan’s mouth closing over him and sucking him down was another, nearly unbearable, jolt of electricity.
He pulled off for a second, hand closing around the base, tapped the head of his cock against his tongue and that was definitely a move Morgan hadn’t had six years ago.
Hayes didn’t even give a fuck if he’d learned that from someone else. He only cared that he was doing it tohim, now.
“So eager I didn’t even ask if it was okay out here,” Morgan murmured in a hushed voice. “Can anyone—”
“No, it’s private. There’s walls.”
Hayes wouldn’t have even cared if there wasn’t. Let the world see Morgan sucking his cock. He’d wear even the shame of it as a badge of pride.
“Good,” Morgan said. “Then they won’t hear you scream.”
The haughty, sure-he-no-longer-gave-a-shit part of Hayes, that wanted to be more over him than he clearly was, scoffed at Morgan’s presumption.
The other part rolled over and hoped, desperately, that Morgan would take pity on him and make it that good. Give him everything he’d wanted on all those lonely, silent nights.
“Come on,” Hayes begged.
Morgan didn’t even hesitate. Didn’t make him ask again. Just swallowed him in his mouth, tongue flicking out, curling around the head. Making Hayes sweat.
He’d definitely been tipsy before the kiss. But now he felt stone-cold sober. Sober and desperate, like he was already holding on to control by the tips of his fingernails.
It probably wasn’t even the best, most expert blowjob he’d ever gotten, but none of that mattered. It was lighting him up that this was Morgan. That for once, he didn’t have to imagine and fantasize and pretend. It was Morgan’s hair he was curling his fingers into. Morgan’s face lifting towards his, the heat in his eyes searing Hayes.
Then Morgan curled a hand around Hayes’ thigh and squeezed, drifting lower. Brushed a thumb against his hole. Hayes made a garbled noise full of nonsense.
“What’s that, baby? You want something?”
Hayes knew what he wanted.
He’d have died of shame before asking for it even six hours ago, but he’d not only run out of give-a-fucks, he’d decided to embrace the crawl of humiliation up his spine.
What did it matter, if he could feelthisagain?
“I want you to fuck me,” Hayes slurred out.
Morgan froze, mouth curling around the tip of Hayes’ cock, thumb barely nudging his hole.
“You heard me,” Hayes said when Morgan said nothing. Just stared at him with shock.
Notbadshock. Just . . .shockshock.
“You mean that?” Morgan whispered.
Hayes laughed, a little hysterically. “Yes, fuck,yes. God, let me up. My bedroom—” He broke off. Laughed again.
Morgan lifted himself with a curse and held out a hand to Hayes. They both stumbled a bit as he finally came upright. “You okay?” Hayes said, still chuckling under his breath. He didn’t let go of Morgan’s hand as he dragged him into the house. Then through the living room, the kitchen, down the hallway.
Until he opened the door to his suite and tugged Morgan inside.
