Page 259 of For the Fans
No more words. Just lips.
He kisses me first, hard and fast, groaning as he does, like he’s been starved for weeks and he’s finally being nourished again. The reunion of our mouths has my mind going topsy-turvy, heating my blood in an instant. My fingers twitch with need, taking in every surface of him, every curve and dip of hard muscle, every plane of soft skin I can reach. His silky hair and his warmth, and the fact that he’ssmilingthe whole time.
He’s happy, and I’msoaring.
“I want to tell you everything…” he whispers hoarsely into my mouth while we pant and suck and lick and bite, grinding together rough to make up for the lost time. “So much good happened while I was gone… even though I hated every second of being away from you.”
“I can’t wait to hear about it, beautiful,” I sigh, replete already just from being with him again. I’m finally settled, and it feels like I’ve just waltzed through the pearly gates of heaven. “I could listen to your voice for hours.”
“You wanna talk now?” He smirks, and I mirror it… two sets of already swollen lips from the force of our ravenous kisses.
“If you’re okay with it…” I bite his bottom lip, and he hums. “I’d rather pick your ass up and fuck you against something first.”
“Always giving me what I need,” he whimpers. “My sweet, strawberry angel.”
Bearing myself against the wall, I grab him by the ass and hoist him up on my body. He gasps and chuckles, wrapping his legs around my waist while I carry him toward my bedroom.
“I love being with someone strong enough to lift me up,” he sighs, fluttering his tongue over my lip, then sinking it into my mouth. My cock throbs against his through our pants.
“You wanna get tossed around a little, sexy thing?” I growl, and he groans, nodding and writhing in my arms.
“I just fucking missed you so bad, baby.” He rips my hair in his fists. “I haven’t come since the last time we were together…”
“Mmm… Not even once?”
He shakes his head.
“Me neither.”
I walk us over to my drawing table and lie him down on it. His legs stay around my waist, clutching me to him while I hold his jaw and kiss him so furiously it’s like I’m punishing his sweet, soft mouth.
“You didn’t stroke your big cock while you were missing me?” he whispers.
“Uh-uh.” I shake my head. “I couldn’t. It only wants you.”
“I’m here.” He slides his hand between us to rub my shape over my pants. “Let me take care of you.”
“Are you talking to me… or my dick?” I grin.
He rumbles a sexy little laugh. “I missed you both equally.”
A desperate whimper leaves me as I suck off his mouth just long enough to gaze down at him. I don’t think he realizes he’s lying on top of a pile of drawings of him… but it’s a marvelous sight to behold.
I’ve been sketching nothing but Kyran for weeks… The only thing my hands seemed to want to do. And now he’s here; the real Kyran,my baby. Lying on a background of his eyes, and lips and muscled torsos. His beauty captured on paper, which does no justice to the gorgeous being gazing up at me.
Ripping my shirt over my head, I toss it fast, then do the same to his. We’re scrambling out of our clothes, fingers chasing, rushing and exploring, fevered breaths echoing around us within the muggy heat of a lust returned home.
“Where’s your mom?” he asks as I peel his pants and boxers down his legs, running my hand up the length of his giant, swollen cock.
“She went out to get away from me,” I hum, and he laughs. “Apparently, I’ve beendifficultto be around these past few weeks.”
His lashes flutter as he bites his lip, taming the wild smile that won’t leave his mouth. “You mean even Mr. Blasé himself was getting a lil moody?”
“Yea,” I growl, shoving my pants and boxers down my thighs. “No weed, no sex, and no Kyran for over a month turned up the grump-o-meter.”
His eyes sparkle up at me. “You haven’t been smoking…?”
My chin dips as I trace his abs with my fingertips. “I quit before the Rose Bowl.” He blinks at me, and I clear my throat. “I… I didn’t want to be foggy with you, baby. Plus, you’re a better high than any drug could ever give.”
