Page 62 of The Professional
“Mm-hm.” Rourke curled his arm around Forrest’s back and rested his hand on his hip, petting the skin that showed when Forrest’s shirt rose up a little. “Why are you wearing those pants?”
“I like them.” Forrest dipped his thumb into his waistband and tugged at it just enough to show off a pair of lacy pink underwear. Rourke’s eyes darkened when he saw them. “Did I mention I love pretty panties too?”
“Hm. Now you’re teasing me?” Rourke’s fingers traced Forrest’s hipbone before he pinched the panties between two fingertips, tugging. “They hide your cock much?”
“Want to see?” Forrest didn’t wait for an answer. He shifted off Rourke and stood between Rourke’s legs. Tugging at the blue denim shorts, they slid down his thighs with ease until Rourke was presented with Forrest’s hard cock trapped in the pair of lacy underwear. The tip of his dick peeked out from the waistband and Forrest scratched at his slit gently with his nail. “Mm. I like panties, they make me feel very sexy. What do you think?”
Lust washed over Rourke’s face and his dark gaze promised Forrest that he was going to eat him all up. Forrest wanted that. He craved Rourke’s lips on his again, but he also wanted to feel Rourke’s mouth on his ass. Forrest was a sucker when it came to rim jobs. Most clients wouldn’t even think about it because they were there for their pleasure, not Forrest’s.
Rourke’s hands touched his hips and the weight of them made Forrest shiver with need. “Take your shirt and pants off. I want to see you in only those panties.”
Forrest swallowed around his excitement and shoved his pants the rest of the way down his legs, stepping out of them. His pale pink T-shirt went next, dropping on the ground next to his shorts. He stood there, suddenly unsure of what he supposed to do. As a professional, he thrived on enticing his clients to touch, to take what they wanted, but Rourke made Forrest feel lost because Forrest had never needed someone as much as he did now.
“You’re so beautiful, did you know that?”
Forrest had been told before, plenty of times. “Yes.” He grinned. “But I like hearing it from you.”
“Yeah?” Rourke leaned forward and took Forrest’s balls into his mouth, the only wall between his wet tongue and Forrest’s sensitive skin was the thin piece of material.
Forrest gasped and his mouth parted in a pant. He grasped a chunk of Rourke’s hair, tugging it gently. Rourke sucked and nibbled in a way that made Forrest’s knees tremble. If Rourke wasn’t holding him up, he would have fallen to the ground. “Please.”
Rourke popped his mouth off and glanced up at Forrest. “Please what, baby? What do you want?”
“Your mouth on my cock,” Forrest begged. His hands shook, no matter how tightly he held onto Rourke’s hair.
“How many of your clients have sucked your cock, Forrest?” There was something in Rourke’s gaze, a possessiveness that made Forrest flush hot inside. Rourke had always been so laid back, the kind of person born to run a brothel. The man looking up at him right now wasn’t the same person. He wanted to own Forrest, control him, and Forrest wanted that so badly it hurt.
“Not many,” Forrest answered truthfully, crouching so he was at Rourke’s height. He kissed Rourke gently on the lips, his tongue pushing into Rourke’s mouth. They stayed there for a minute, kissing until they were both breathless with desire for more. “I’ve wanted your mouth on my cock since the moment I saw you.”
“Why?” Rourke stroked up Forrest’s face, cupping his cheek. “What’s got a pretty boy like you interested in me?”
“Everything,” Forrest whispered, leaning into his touch. “You’re fucking hot for starters, and you’re fucking smart. You’ve got this kind of controlled attitude, but deep down, I see a trapped man who needs to get out.”
“Yeah?” Rourke seized Forrest’s mouth with his and they kissed with more aggression this time. He stood without breaking their mouths apart, and Forrest followed him like a lost lamb, more than happy to be slaughtered. He’d take anything Rourke was willing to give him. “Want me to fuck your pretty ass?”
Forrest whimpered and nodded. “Yes. I need it so badly.”
“Tell me what you want in detail.” Rourke grabbed Forrest’s face between his hands and made Forrest look at him. “What do you want me to do?”
Forrest bit down on his bottom lip, eyelashes threatening to flutter closed at the feel of Rourke’s hands on him. Pleasure sizzled in his blood and it headed south to settle in his balls. “I want you to destroy my hole in every way possible. I want you to lick me until I’m ready for your cock, then I want you to fuck me while I still have my panties on.”
Rourke grabbed Forrest by the arm, throwing him at the armchair. Forrest caught himself, but before he could move, Rourke was at his back, the buttons of his waistcoat scratching against his skin. Rourke spat in his hand before sliding it into Forrest’s lacy panties, grabbing Forrest’s hard cock in his hands. “Is that what you want? You want me to eat your ass while you wear those panties of yours?”
Forrest closed his eyes, Rourke’s vice grip causing all kinds of sensations inside him. His blood turned to lava and heat attacked his cheeks. His cock jerked in Rourke’s fingers, want surging through Forrest like a tidal wave. He needed Rourke so badly it hurt. “Yes.”
“Yes, what?” Rourke bit at the shell of his ear, making Forrest shiver.
“Yes please, boss. I want you to eat my ass.”
“Open you up wide for my cock?” Rourke all but purred.
“I want your cock so badly,” Forrest whined, his grip on the chair’s arms so tight his knuckles were turning white. He tilted his head, ignoring the pull on his ear. “I want you to fuck me while you’re fully dressed.”
Rourke humped his clothed erection against Forrest’s ass, and Forrest’s cock throbbed, precum building at his slit. “You have a kink for suits, baby?”
“I have a thing foryouin a suit,” Forrest answered, without missing a beat. “You’re so hot. From the moment you walked through that door for the first time, I needed you.”
Rourke growled, and the sound of his zipper made Forrest purr. Pleasure zipped through him and fiery desire licked at his skin. His hands scrabbled at the armchair, searching for something firm to keep him grounded. But it wasn’t a cock felt at his hole, rather a wet tongue that poked at him through his underwear.
