Page 56 of Animal Instincts
Gently, slowly, Joss ran the tip of his tongue around the dark pink tinged muscle. It fluttered and clenched, and fluttered again, and Joss pressed in a little harder, a little further, breaching its resistance.
“Fucking hell, f-uck…” Oliver’s rough, rasping voice rent the air around them.
Joss, his mouth dripping saliva, pushed in further, tasting Oliver’s dark and bitter heat. He pulled back, ignoring Oliver’s protesting groans, and grabbed the sachet of lube from the bedside cabinet and ripped it open with unsteady hands. Coating his fingers, he edged in closer to Oliver, but all he could do was stare down at his stiff and sticky digits. Oliver nudged him with his leg; Joss glanced up, and his heart all but burst in his chest. Oliver was gazing at him, his face calm and sure as though he’d placed every ounce of his trust in Joss. It was a big responsibility — huge — and Joss’ cock wilted a little at the enormity of what was to come.
“You’d better get a move on, otherwise all that slick on your fingers will have gone out of date by the time you get going.”
Oliver’s words were so matter of fact, he may just as well have been asking if Joss wanted tea or coffee. The tension that for a few paralysing seconds had held Joss captive, melted away.
Joss glided his fingers over Oliver’s entrance, teasing him open. He sank one finger into Oliver’s tight channel, up to the second knuckle. Oliver tensed, and hissed. Joss stopped.
“Oliver?”
“No, don’t stop… Just been a long time…”
Joss slid further in, a second finger joining the first. Oliver clenched hard around him. A second hiss cut through the silent bedroom.
“Hold your breath hard for twenty seconds, then let it go slowly.”
“What?”
“Just do it.”
Oliver took in a deep breath, locking Joss’ fingers in a vice-like grip, before he let it go, taking the tension in his muscle with it. The grip on Joss lessened.
“Where did you—?”
Joss eased in a third finger. Oliver really didn’t want to know from where he’d picked up that particular little nugget.
“Ahhh…”
Stretching, pushing deeper, sliding and twisting, Joss could have finger-fucked Oliver all night long, but his hot and aching cock, bobbing at his stomach, was demanding its own action.
Carefully, slowly, he pulled his sodden, slick fingers free of Oliver. He climbed between Oliver’s splayed legs, bringing them nose to nose.
“Taste yourself.” Joss’ voice was sandpaper rough, as he swept a finger across Oliver’s lips.
Oliver caught it in his mouth, his eyes widening as he sucked hard. Joss sucked at the other two fingers, shuddering in dark delight at Oliver’s taste on his lips.
Lips…
Joss claimed Oliver’s mouth in a ferocious and desperate kiss, wet and sloppy and laced with the musky, bitter tang of his man.
Oliver’s hands plunged into his hair, holding him hard and strong as the kiss deepened and deepened, deeper and darker than the middle of the ocean. Joss could lose himself in the kiss, he could let himself sink down, and down, and down.
His cock throbbed and twitched, growing ever more impatient, and Joss dragged himself back up into the light. He broke the kiss, his chest heaving, his lips sore and pulsing. Below him, Oliver stared at him through glazed, black eyes, his mouth slack and wet, and Joss knew he must look the same.
Joss pushed away and grabbed the condom. Every muscle in his body quivered, like a just-plucked guitar string, as he pulled the rubber from the foil.
“I’m doing that.” Oliver’s voice was low and gravelly, every word sending a shiver down Joss’ backbone, as he shifted and knelt before Joss on the bed, and took the condom from Joss’ trembling fingers.
Joss gasped as Oliver rolled the condom down the length of his shaft, every moment of the touch sparking an electrical storm in his nerve endings. But he wanted to rip it off, and throw away the barrier between them. He sucked in a deep breath, the strength of the emotion catching hard at him.
Not yet, not now, but soon.
Oliver began to shift and turn, but Joss pulled him back.
“No. On your back. I want to see you when we…”
