Page 52 of The Return
Before he could finish, I rolled over, gripping my hard cock and waggling my brows at him. “This is a broncing buck, not a pony. Be sure you can handle it.”
He rolled his eyes. “I’ve played with toys bigger than you.”
I widened my eyes. “Oh?”
He cackled. “No, just wanted to give you some crap.” He reached out and gripped my cock. “This is by far the biggest toy I’ve had.”
“Then get playing.”
“In time.” He leaned down and kissed the head of my cock. “See, you had your way, now it’s my turn. While I’m more than happy to do what I’m told out there, in our bedroom—or wherever we decide to get busy—I’m going to have wants and needs.” He licked a strip from my balls to the tip of my cock. “And right now, I want to suck this bad boy.”
Oh, hell yes. I’d dreamed of blow jobs. Well, Corey’s lips wrapped around my dick. Watching as he bobbed up and down on me, never taking his eyes off my face, was one of the hottest fantasies I’d had.
“Go for it,” I croaked.
He snickered. “Big, bad Alpha brought down by an itty-bitty tongue?” He swirled it around the head, then dipped it into the slit. “What would the others say if they could see this?”
I put my hands on his head and pulled him down, being careful not to choke him. “They’d say, ‘What a fucking lucky bastard our Alpha is.’”
For a few minutes, the only sounds in the room were my moans and Corey’s slurps. It was heaven, at least as far as I was concerned. When he reached up and cupped my balls, tugging them gently, I gasped.
“You learned a lot from porn.”
He pulled off with a pop. “I wish I had learned to deepthroat. I’d love to take all of this.”
I grabbed my dick and waggled it at him. “Well, if you need practice, I’m always available for you to hone your skills on.”
He grinned, then opened wide and got to business. When he slid off again, I wanted to protest, but then he reached for the nightstand drawer, and I knew what was coming. Corey pulled out the familiar yellow and white jar of his favorite lube. He took the top off, then dipped a finger into the container. As I watched, he skimmed his hand over his skin, then slid that damned digit up his ass with a sinful moan.
I reached down and stroked my cock, watching him add another finger. It was sensuous, beyond dirty, and hotter than any porn I’d ever seen—not that there was much, mind you. The pure and wanton look on his face, combined with the squishing sound as he made sure he was lubed, sent my libido into overdrive.
When I sat up, Corey put a hand on my chest and pushed me down once more. “My show, my rules. Lay there and shut up. The only thing I want to hear from you are grunts, groans, moans, and you begging me for more. We good?” he asked, then went back to fingering himself.
I loved the facets of Corey. He could do demure when we were in a group, he could be a pissy bastard when he wanted something, and he could be a demanding bottom, wanting nothing more than to be filled.
“We are so very good,” I groaned, watching as he added a third finger. The show got hotter when Corey started bouncing up and down on the invaders. He threw his head back, his mouth open, and a whine escaped as he speared himself over and over, while he stroked himself with his other hand.
“Don’t you dare come,” I snapped. “I wanna be inside you when you do.”
“Can’t help it,” Corey panted. “It feelssogood.”
“Think of how much better my cock will feel,” I told him, hopeful he’d actually let me in at some point. “Besides, you’re being loud. You know Matt and Kinsey can probably hear everything going on in here.”
“Enjoy the show, guys!” Corey shouted.
I couldn’t believe he’d done that. The bastard seriously intended on finishing himself off and leaving me out of it? Not happening! I grabbed his arms and jerked him forward, pulling his fingers from his ass, then wrestled him onto his back and hefted his legs up over my shoulders. When I gazed into his eyes, he was smirking at me.
“About time you got with the program. Fingers are nice and all, but that bad boy you’re holding in your hand? Mhm.”
“Teasing little bastard,” I grumped, but pushed in closer. “I thought you were going to ride me, and then you don’t.”
“Lay on your back,” he said, his voice husky.
“No. You’ll start teasing me again,” I said, trying to sound petulant.
“You’re never going to win an Oscar,” he said, grinning. “On your back.”
Honestly, I didn’t care how we did it. I wouldn’t even care if we had sex. When I was at work, I couldn’t stop thinking about Corey. Holding him, kissing him, being inside of him. He consumed my every thought. My dad told me that it would wane the longer we were together, that sex wouldn’t be as important. Maybe that was true, and if it was, fine. But I wanted Corey with what probably bordered on a near psychotic desperation.
