Page 32 of Faking It Right
He took his sweet time kissing and caressing my chest before finding my nipples. His touch was gentle, almost reverent, as he traced lazy circles around them with his thumbs, then toyed with one using his tongue.
I inhaled sharply as he applied more pressure. The unexpected intensity of pleasure made me bite my lip to stifle a moan.
Ryker’s eyes widened, his hands mid-motion. “You enjoy that? But you’re not a woman.”
I didn’t smother my laugh at his adorable bewilderment. “Different equipment, same nerve endings,” I explained with a playful smirk. “The human body is universal in some ways. Haven’t you ever had a girlfriend who played with your nipples?”
“Not really.” He glanced down at his own chest, then back at mine.
“Aw, poor baby. Straight guys have it so hard,” I teased. “But trust me, it feels good regardless of gender. I can give you a hands-on tutorial later if you’re feeling adventurous.”
Ryker resumed his exploration with renewed interest. He circled my nipples again, this time with more pressure, watching my reactions with fascination before he leaned down to put his mouth to work.
“Oh,” I breathed, my fingers threading through his hair. “That’s—yeah, keep doing that.”
As Ryker continued, his erection pressed against my thigh, hot and insistent.
With each gasp he coaxed from me, his hesitation melted away. The tentative brushes of his fingertips transformed into satisfying strokes. “You’re enjoying this.”
“Mmm, what gave it away?” I teased, rocking my obvious arousal against his.
His eyes followed mine, and he swallowed hard. “I’m doing that to you.”
“You are. You have no idea how much I want you.”
Something shifted in his expression. A realization, perhaps, of the power he held in this moment. He straightened up, still straddling me, and ran his hands down my sides with newfound assurance.
“Show me,” he whispered, his voice rough with desire.
I didn’t need to be asked twice. I wrapped my hand around his cock as I had earlier. “Is this what you want?”
His eyes fluttered closed at my touch, his breath catching in his throat. “Please,” he begged with a neediness that fueled my fire.
Ryker braced his hands on either side of my head, his arms trembling as he held himself above me. His hips rocked into my grip with increasing desperation as he neared his peak. The controlled rhythm gave way to frantic thrusts as he chased his pleasure, making my hand slick with precum.
“Harley,” he gasped, his voice cracking on my name. “I’m?—”
Before he could finish his sentence, his body tensed above me, his back arching as he came across my stomach with a soft cry he couldn’t quite smother. I worked him through it, gentling mytouch as the pulses subsided, watching his face with undisguised adoration.
He trembled above me, panting and flushed. I couldn’t resist trailing my fingers through the evidence of his pleasure on my skin. On impulse, I swiped some of it and brought it to my lips for a taste.
“What are you doing?” He sounded scandalized, like a Regency era aristocrat who needed smelling salts because he caught sight of a woman’s ankle.
His expression was so comically horrified that I had to laugh. “Enjoying the fruits of my labor.”
“That’s—you can’t—” Ryker spluttered, his face turning an even deeper shade of red.
I grinned at him as I put on a show of sucking my finger clean. “You’re delicious,” I murmured, watching his embarrassment deepen.
“You’re only saying that to be nice.” He honest-to-god pouted.
To prove my point, I took another taste, making sure he was watching. The eroticism of the moment, combined with the intensity in his gaze, pushed me over the edge. My orgasm hit me hard, my release mixing with his on my stomach as I shuddered through my climax.
“I think this proves otherwise.” I gestured to the mess on my abs as I caught my breath. “Damn, I look like a work of art.”
Ryker stared, transfixed by the sight. Then, to my utter shock, he reached out with a tentative finger. He hesitated for a long moment before bringing the smallest sample of my cum to his lips.
I stopped breathing, hardly daring to believe what I was seeing. The small act felt more intimate than anything we’d done so far, a boundary that I never expected him to approach, let alone cross.
