Page 51 of On the Run
The visual of him staring up at me, cock out and face wrecked, did me in. My balls tightened and I gripped the column tighter, fingers digging into the wood as I tried to hold back. I tried to commit every detail to memory—the lap of the water against the pool, the warm breeze cooling my sweaty skin, the flush of arousal on Toby’s cheeks, the blissed-out look in his eyes, theslick, slick, slickof his hand as he worked himself, but it felt too good.
“I’m close.” The deep growl didn’t sound like my usual voice. “Shit, Toby, I’m really close. Stop for a minute—”
But he didn’t stop. In fact, he brought the hand he’d been using to jerk himself up to tug my sac, andholy mother of fuck, I had no idea how good it would feel for someone else to do that to me until he did it.
“Fuck, Toby. Fuck, yeah. Oh, God.”
That was the last straw. The entire world contracted for a second—every muscle in my body locked down, even my hearing cut out—and then exploded the next as I yelled Toby’s name again and came down his throat.
He choked a little, dribbling cum and saliva, and my spent dick gave another half-hearted twitch inside his mouth because it was so fucking messy and hot, and I loved it.
Twenty-eight years, and I hadn’t known I liked messy and hot.
I reached out a trembling hand to Toby’s hair—it was soft,fuckit was so soft—and pulled him off me. He panted up at me, wild-eyed and swollen-lipped, and wordlessly resumed stroking himself.
I sank to my knees, spreading my thighs on either side of his, and pressed our mouths together. Toby’s lips were hot and wet with spit and cum, but he opened for me unhesitatingly. I trailed the backs of my fingers down his abs, absorbing his shudders, and wrapped my fingers around his so we could work him together.
“Show me what you like,” I rasped against his mouth. “Show me how you like it. You want me to suck you?”
“No, I want your hand on me. That big, capable fucking hand. Get it wet,” he instructed, his voice hoarse. I raised a hand to my mouth and licked my palm until it was dripping. His gorgeous brown eyes sank half-shut, and he whimpered when I wrapped my hand around him again.
“Fuck, yeah. Like that but tighter.” Toby moved his hand away and instead clenched my shoulders tightly, trusting me to take care of him. “Harder. Like—oh, yeah. Yeahyeahyeah. Just like that. Shit, you’re good, Beale. Don’t stop.”
“Not gonna stop,” I promised. Even if my arm fell off. Even if an earthquake hit. Even if my heart actually exploded from all the rapid-fire thumping. Even if my leg muscles gave out, like they were threatening to do, because I could still feel the aftershocks of my orgasm in my balls.
I thought about all the shit he’d said to me and how it had amped me up unbelievably. So with no plan whatsoever, I cleared my throat and leaned in so I could whisper in his ear all the things I’d like to do to him.
“I can’t wait to get my mouth on you. I can’t wait to… to suck your balls. And I want to eat you out. I’ve never done either of those things, but you’d be my first. You could… you could show me?”
I worried I was failing epically, reminding him how inexperienced I was, but Toby let out a high-pitched wail and gripped me harder, so I kept going, moving my hand faster, grasping him more firmly.
“I want to fuck you over the counter in the guesthouse kitchen.” Once I started, it was easy to just spill every fantasy I’d ever had. “Against a wall with your legs around my waist and my hands spreading you open. Maybe I’ll do it when the contractors are here so you’d have to be extra quiet, since you’re fucking filthy and seem to like that idea.”
Toby groaned.
“And I want to fuck you in the pool, too. I’d blow you under the water, then finger you and get you ready for me. Then I’d push inside you and—” I paused, remembering how he couldn’t swim. “And I’d hold you up the entire time and keep you safe. And then I’d—”
“Oh, fuck. Oh, yeah. Fuck, Beale!Fuck.” Toby came in giant splatters that hit my chest, my stomach, and the patch of pubic hair right above my dick, and, no lie, it felt like the greatest accomplishment of my entire life.
I’d done that. I’dmadehimdo that.
We smiled at each other wildly, then fell to the ground side by side with the lounge cushion under our heads, both our chests heaving like we’d swum all the way back from the islandandrun back to the house.
Gold afternoon sunlight fell through the slats of the pergola’s roof, creating rainbow fractals that burst on the inside of my eyelids—beautiful Catherine wheels of color splashing across my brain.
I couldn’t move. I couldn’t think. I’d never felt more at peace. And the idea drifted across my brain that I’d been so, so,sowrong, because it turned out “oh” and “fuck” and “yeah” were maybe the most expressive three syllables in the English language.
And I wouldn’t have known that, if not for Toby.
He was right. His blow jobs really did change lives.
It was a long moment later when he finally turned his head toward me. “That was.” He had to pause and swallow, still breathless. “Seriously high quality. Eight point five out of ten.”
My heart, which had finally slowed down slightly, started to beat faster, not with fear but promise. “Not sure how it could get better than that.”
I turned my head and found him grinning.
“Give me a few minutes and I’ll show you,” he promised.
