Page 15 of Ripe & Ready
“It’s us, Andy. It’s always been us.”
His hand moves over my shoulder, down my chest, then wraps around my throat. Not rough, but so sure. He tilts my head back, guiding me to look at him and then he kisses me, and with his lips on mine and time weighing down on us I know that from this point on there’s no holding back.
The distant sounds of the jungle filter into the open-air space. Something wild beyond reach. The scent of body wash hangs in the steam, light and tropical. Coconut, I think.
Hot water rains down on us, warm against our skin, the droplets snaking along our bodies. They slide down slowly, weaving paths across our chests, our backs, racing toward the hardwood and disappearing through the grate beneath our feet.
His cock rests against me, thick with intent.
Like that, everything else disappears.
He nips at my ear, tongue dragging heat down the side of my neck. His hands are everywhere. Firm, claiming, rough in a way that makes me ache. One wraps around my cock, stroking with maddening ease, like he already knows exactly how to unravel me.
I can’t take it anymore.
I spin to face him, eyes locked on his, and drop to my knees. It’s not even a decision. It’s instinct, devotion, need.
I want him. All of him. In every way I can have him.
He’s already under my skin, in my chest, carved into every layer of my being, but now I want to be ruined by him completely.
And he lets me.
My lips part and I take him past my lips slow and careful then deeper and deeper still, until I feel the full weight of him stretch my mouth, settle heavy on my tongue. My nose brushes the softhair at the base, and the scent of him hits me all at once. Soap and sweat. It’s intoxicating.
Above me, he gasps. One hand moves into my hair, not pulling, but threading. Fingertips tracing my scalp. It’s steady. Grounding.
I stay there, still, for a second, breathing him in. Letting it sink in that this is real. That he’s here. That I finally get to have this, have him, in a way I’ve only played out in late-night fantasies for years.
I rock my head back and forth, one hand stroking him with enough twist in my wrist to match the rhythm of my mouth. My cheeks hollow as I move, tongue circling the head, lapping at him, working him deeper with every pass.
The taste of him hits me. Sharp and bitter pre-come that floods my senses. This is my favorite flavor. Bottle it. Sell it in stores. I’d buy it in bulk and embarrass myself at checkout.
With my other hand, I cup his balls gently, and he groans. Low and rough. Coming undone one breath at a time.
When I pull back a little to peer up at him, cock still resting at the tip of my tongue, his breath stutters, and I feel that unspoken everything between us. All the tension, the missed timing, the fear, the want... unspooling in the heat between our bodies. It’s been waiting for this exact moment to break free.
Then he hauls me to my feet. Like actually hauls, zero hesitation. He spins me around, pressing me forward.
“Grab the wall and spread your legs,” he says, and holy hell. His voice is gruff and serious and charged, and I swear I feel it ricochets right through me. It hits my already aching cock like a jolt of electricity. I might actually black out.
I turn to face the wall, widening my stance and pushing my ass out, arching my back to give him everything. Full access.
“Good boy,” he says, and smacks my ass.
Hot damn! The sound that comes out of me? I don’t think it’s ever existed before. It’s new. Untested. Scientists will need to name it.
This man is going toend me.
A second later, he’s behind me, dropping to his knees and burying his face between my cheeks. His tongue laps at my hole with furious strokes before pressing in.
I choke on a breath. My knees almost buckle. Jesus Christ.
Has anything ever felt this good?
No. No, absolutely not.
Fuck… this is only foreplay.
