Page 73 of The Best Men
“Fuuuck,” I whisper as he gives me another suck. “You’re killing me.”
His naughty finger slides farther into my channel. I can’t even sort out the sensations anymore. There’s the pressure in my ass, and the pleasure on my cock.
Then he strokes a place deep inside me, and I feel a kind of dark, intense pleasure that’s completely unfamiliar. And I hear a low, desperate moan that probably comes from me.
“You like that, Banks?” he murmurs.
My answer is a tangle of curses and gibberish.
With a chuckle, he moves his mouth away from my cock and kisses my stomach instead.
“More,” I beg.
“You’ll get more.” He strokes my prostate again and I arch off the bed with pleasure. “You ever do this to yourself?”
Well IthoughtI had. I’ve plugged myself while I jerk off. The pressure was nice. “It’s not the same,” I murmur.
His laugh is wicked. “Can you take two fingers?”
“I’ll take whatever you give me.”
Asher groans. “Careful what you wish for, hotshot. Aren’t we taking the list one item at a time?”
“What list?” I grunt. I’m ready to throw the damn thing overboard. Lists aren’t real life.
This is real life—the press of his finger into my body, and the fizz of longing pounding in my veins. I want this beautiful man with the smart mouth and crooked smile. I want this night to never end.
Sadly, his magic finger disappears. I lie boneless on the bed, listening to the sound of the lube bottle opening again while my heart thrums with anticipation.
Next comes the sting as he penetrates me once more. I’m expecting his mouth on my cock again too. Asher is a slick lover. He has all the moves. I don’t like to think too hard about all the men who’ve come before me—all the living he’s done while my life took a long nap.
This is the most fun I’ve had in years while I’m just a notch in his belt.
But those worries fall away as he hitches himself up my body and kisses my chest. That crazy hair of his tickles my chin as well as my nipples. And I clamp a hand around the back of his neck and ask my body to stretch a little farther. The burn is already easing off. He scissors his fingers and I groan as he brushes my spot again.
Yes. This. More,says the drumbeat of my heart. And I’m still waiting for his mouth to torture me again.
And it does—but not in the way I’m expecting. Asher rises up, one strong arm wrapped around my thigh, and then he sinks down onto my chest for a kiss. I moan against the unexpected assault of his tongue against mine. The kiss is an erotic multiplier, heightening every sensation times ten. I’m a forest fire, and I don’t want to be put out.
When I gaze up at Asher in the dark, I’m astonished to see my own wonder mirrored back at me. Those bright eyes bore into me, like he’s never seen anything so interesting in his life.
I’m greedy for him. I want more of his kisses and more of his artful touch. Justmore. “Fuck me,” I demand. “Do it.”
He goes still. “Aren’t we saving that for later?”
“No,” I insist. “I’m on a deadline here. And you’ve got just what I need.”
He blinks. “A hard dick, and good hygiene?”
Hell, the way I feel about Asher is so much more than that. But I haven’t got any idea how to explain it. I’ll never forget this night. I’ll never forget him. And I’d never want to.
But that’s too many words for a guy who’s addled by lust. So I crane my neck and kiss him roughly instead. Our teeth click and our whiskers scrape and our tongues clash.
He moans, and I feel it in my balls.
I reach up and artlessly rub his chest. I don’t want to stop touching him.
Ever.
