Page 40 of Shut Up and Jingle Me
His words slam into me like a fist to the chest, knocking the air from my lungs. I swear I feel them in my bloodstream, heating me from the inside out. If I wasn’t hard as a rock and weeping with pre-cum already, that would do it.
“Jesus, Eli,” I rasp, my hand tightening on his hip as if that alone could anchor me.
He doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t blush or backpedal. He just arches against me, needy and sure, his breath ghosting hot against my lips. “Don’t make me beg.”
That nearly undoes me. I cup his face, kissing him hard, pouring every ounce of restraint into the press of my mouth even as my body aches to give in. My other hand slides down, grippinghis thigh, guiding it higher around my waist until he’s cradling me against him.
“You don’t have to beg, Princess,” I whisper against his lips, low and rough. “You’ve got me, I’ll give you what you need.”
The way his eyes darken at the pet name, the way he drags me closer, it burrows under my skin. Makes me crave so much more than a weekend with him. My hand fumbles in his nightstand until I find the condom and lube he stashed there.
I shove my joggers down, my cock springing free, hard and aching, bobbing between us. His gaze drops immediately, hungry, and heat licks through me at the way he looks at me, like he’s starving, like he’d worship me if I let him.
Pre-come quickly drips from the tip, catching the low light. On instinct, I swipe my thumb over it and bring it to his lips. His eyes track the motion, sharp and intent, before he parts his lips and licks it clean off my skin with a little happy moan.
The sight of his tongue on my thumb makes my whole body jolt. A groan rips out of me, my head tipping back as heat pools low and heavy, my balls tightening. “Ffffuck, Eli…”
The groan still hangs in the air when Eli plucks the foil packet from my hand. His lips curve, just a little, before he tears it open with his teeth.
“Let me,” he says.
I don’t argue. I can’t. My chest heaves as he sits up, his fingers curling around my cock with a confidence that makes my breath stutter. The air in the room is cold, but his touch is hot—so fucking hot I nearly lose it already.
He pinches the tip of the condom, rolls it down my length inch by inch, so achingly slow I swear he’s doing it on purpose. His thumb drags against my vein, his palm wrapping me as though he’s savoring the weight of me in his hand.
By the time the latex is snug at the base, I’m shaking. My hips twitch upward despite myself, chasing more friction, but he only smirks up at me, wicked and beautiful.
“Eli,” I growl, gripping his jaw and kissing him hard. “You keep that up, and I won’t last long enough to fuck you.”
“Then shut up,” he whispers against my mouth, before lying back and hooking his leg higher on my hip. “And give me what I asked for.”
I grab the bottle of lube, snapping the cap open, and coat my fingers until they glisten. Eli watches every movement, his chest rising fast, his lips parted as if he’s ready to argue if I stall too long. But then my slick fingers drag down the inside of his thigh, brushing deliberately close before slipping between his cheeks.
The second I circle his rim, he gasps, his hips jerking up against me. “Max?—”
“Easy,” I murmur, pressing a kiss to his temple. “I’m not rushing this. You’re going to take me slow, remember?”
He shivers under my touch, but he doesn’t fight me when I ease one finger inside. The heat grips me instantly, tight and hot, and I have to bite back a groan. He clutches the sheets, breaths breaking as I stroke in and out, twisting just enough to make him whine. Ghosting over his prostrate with each touch.
When I add a second finger, he arches beautifully, head tipping back, exposing his throat. I lean forward and mouth at the skin there, sucking lightly while I scissor him open, stretching him until I feel him loosen around my fingers.
“God, you’re perfect like this,” I breathe against his skin. “So fucking tight. Taking me so well.”
He moans, legs trembling around my waist. “Max, please?—”
I curl my fingers, brushing his prostrate more firmly until he cries out, and his whole body bows off the bed. The sound shoots straight to my cock, throbbing beneath the thin barrier of latex.
“Not yet,” I growl, even as my own restraint starts to fray. “One more.”
I slick up again and slid in a third finger, stretching him wider. He whimpers into my shoulder, clinging tight, but then pushes back against my hand, desperate. His body knows what it wants, even if he can’t get the words out.
When I finally pull my fingers free, slick and trembling, he looks on edge already—cheeks flushed, lips swollen, sea blue eyes dark with need.
“Ready?”
“Max.” His gaze locks onto mine, blazing. “Now. Please.”
I slick myself with the lube, cock throbbing, and aching to be inside him.
