Page 46 of The Professional
Forrest hummed and stroked his chin. “We could tell her I’m a professional, because whore is so outdated. Oooh. I could tell her I’m a spy for the government.”
“Spies wouldn’t admit that, Forrest.” Rourke laughed.
“Hm. Maybe I can be a secret service agent.”
“Still wouldn’t admit it.”
“What about a DEA agent?”
“Do you want your balls cut off? She might be a Catholic, but she loves Sloan and the company, and she knows exactly what he does.” Rourke patted him on the thigh. “We can just say you work for Sloan. It’s not a lie.”
“I can do that.” Forrest leaned forward, his lips hovering above Rourke’s. “I can be anyone you want, all you have to do is ask.”
What Rourke wanted the most was for Forrest to be himself, minus the men who fucked him because Rourke wanted Forrest for himself, but he couldn’t tell him that. He was here for Sloan and he couldn’t forget that.
“Mom will eat you alive,” Rourke said with a grin.
“I’d rather her son eat me.” Forrest stood and hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his jeans, tugging them down to his knees. He spun around and pressed his chest against the desk, his delicious peach of an ass right in Rourke’s face. A butt plug flashed him—a jeweled heart-shaped base filled with a pink gem. “Please?”
“You did as you were told.” He ran his thumb over the heart, the gem flat without sharp edges. Butt plugs never interested him before, but the sight of it in Forrest’s ass made his dick jump to full salute.
“Mm. Yeah. Are you going to do something about it?”
Rourke was only a man. He couldn’t say no to that.
Chapter Ten
Forrest sighed into the desk, eyes closed when Rourke grabbed his cheeks, spreading him apart. Most men shied away from the idea of eating him out, even if he specifically prepared for them. How did they not know that douches existed? Honestly, he didn’t know how Rourke would react, but he had a feeling he was about to get tongue fucked in the ass and he couldn’t wait.
Rourke massaged his cheeks, fingers kneading into his flesh. His fingers danced over the plug and he tugged it gently until the swollen metal stretched Forrest’s hole on the way out. “You’ve got such a great ass.”
Pleasure zipped inside Forrest, a tingling sensation twisting around his spine and heading straight to his balls. He grinned. “You’re learning. Keep talking, boss.”
“And your hole is perfect.” The sound of the plug falling onto the desk beside him reached Forrest’s ears and then a finger touched him there, and Forrest shivered in anticipation. “So tight.” He pushed just the tip in, but Rourke had Forrest moaning already. What kind of professional was he?
“Mm. I want your tongue in it, opening me up while you prepare me for that monster cock of yours.”
Rourke shoved his finger knuckle deep, and Forrest didn’t even need to pretend to moan like he did with some clients. He didn’t need lube, he was prepared after a day with clients, and even though Rourke obviously knew that, it wasn’t something neither of them would discuss. As far as they were concerned, Forrest’s clients didn’t exist.
Everything about Rourke turned him on and made him want more. They had a connection that pulled Forrest to Rourke like a magnet. All Rourke had to do was talk, and Forrest found himself hard and wanting. It got awkward the first few months after Rourke arrived. Now no one was surprised to see Forrest erect in his pants whenever their boss was around.
“You suck my finger right in. You’re a dirty little whore, aren’t you?” Rourke murmured.
Forrest wriggled against the desk, his dick pressed against the warm wood. “Your little whore. I want you so badly.”
“Do you think about me, when you’re being fucked by others?” Rourke rubbed his cheek against Forrest’s ass and the scratch of his beard made Forrest’s balls tighten.
“Yes. Only you. I only think about you and your delicious cock. How much longer are you going to make me wait?” he whined.
“As long as it takes.” Rourke kneaded his asscheeks again and then spread them. Finally he stuck his tongue in Forrest’s asshole, and Forrest moaned at the insistent push against his entrance. The touch was wet and just how he imagined, and he shoved backward, pushing Rourke’s face right in there.
“I’m impatient. Eat me out. Now.” Forrest felt a sharp sting of teeth on his right asscheek and he hissed. Glancing over his shoulder, he glared. “What was that for?”
“I’m in charge. Remember that.” Another bite, but this time it happened on his left cheek.
Forrest trembled in excitement. Precum built at his slit and he spread his legs wider, hoping for some real action. The move earned him another bite.
“Maybe I need to teach you patience,” Rourke purred, his voice dropping deeper.
