Page 47 of Wishing Hearts

Throwing the pillow off my face, I tell him, “Gonna come.”

He doesn’t move off my dick, and as I look down at the dark-haired man who spun into my life like a whirling dervish of optimism and filthy promises, my orgasm takes me by force. Sam’s cheeks are hollowed as he sucks on the head of my cock, his hand stroking my base, and with a stuttered inhale and the realization that I want what this man is offering—that I want to believe, for once, it could be this easy—I come blissfully down his throat.

Sam’s gaze darkens as he swallows my release, his hand working me all the while, and as soon as I finish shooting, he reaches for his own dick. I’m not having any of that.

“Get the fuck up here,” I tell him hoarsely.

Sam’s eyes meet mine, and then he drops my legs from his shoulders and crawls up my body. Grabbing the back of his neck, I stare at this man—this lovely, light-souled man—and I bring my mouth to his. He kisses me back feverishly, and I can taste remnants of myself on his tongue as we tangle and dance.

When I can finally feel my legs again, I hook one over his. “Your turn,” I tell him, flipping Sam onto his back. He grins, and I press his wrists firmly into the mattress, a demand to stay put. As I move down his body, stomach gliding over his cock, Sam groans. He leaves his arms lax above his head, and it’s a gorgeous sight, one I greedily take in as I settle between his legs. His dick is long and curved gently upwards, flushed at the tip, and I take it in hand, running my thumb along the underside.

“Sam,” I say gently.

“Yeah,” he breathes, head lifted off the bed to look at me.

“What do you want?” I ask, pumping him slowly. A bit of precum is smeared over his cockhead, and I spread it down his shaft. It’s not enough moisture, though, so I keep my ministrations light.

“I’m not a complicated guy, stud,” he says, chest rising and falling. “All I want is you.”

My stomach heats as Sam’s words settle inside of me, and I know—a sudden, overwhelming realization—that Sam was right. I’m not the only fragile one in this relationship, and despite my own reservations about my readiness for something more in my life right now, I can not treat this lightly. I can’t be flippant when it comes to Sam.

He’s in this. This man is in this, and that’s as terrifying as it is wonderful.

“Well,” I say before swiping my tongue over the tip of Sam’s cock. “One thing you should know about me is that I really like dick.”

Sam huffs a laugh. “Yeah?”

“Mhm.” I wrap my lips around him, sucking just a bit before retreating. Sam puffs out a breath, hips following me. “And you’ve got a great one. We’re going to become well acquainted, me and your dick.”

Sam grins at me. “I like this plan. I like it a lot. But, uh, Harrison?” He stutters out a breath when I lick up his shaft. “I’m real damn close, so you might needa do get-to-know-yous another time.”

I bite my lip against a laugh. “All right, Sammy. You hold on tight.”

He groans out an affirmative as I suck half of his length into my mouth. One of his hands flies to my hair, fingers anchoring in the strands, and my eyes flutter closed, head going all hazy as Sam’s carefully restrained noises fill my ears. I open my eyes before long, not wanting to miss a thing. Not wanting to miss the way Sam’s abdomen bunches. How those soft brown eyes of his light as I bob up and down on his dick. And certainly not wanting to miss him fall apart, which he does a moment later, his cock thickening in my mouth and his eyes rolling up as he arches and shoots down my throat.

“Fuuuck,” he groans out quietly before slumping flat.

I give his head one more lick before letting him go, and Sam’s fingers rub gently against my scalp. When I climb up Sam’s body, he opens his arm wide, and I settle there at his side, head resting against his bicep.

“Y’know,” Sam says, still sounding a little winded. His arm wraps around me. “Anytime you wanna become better acquainted with my dick, you just lemme know. He’ll be happy to see you.”

I chuckle, insides feeling light and bouncy. “So selfless of him.”

“Yeah. He’s a good guy.”

I slap Sam’s chest, and he laughs.

“Roll over,” I tell him. “Forgot something.”

Sam gives me a curious look, but when I scoot off his arm, he does as I ask, rolling onto his stomach. I take a moment to enjoy the view, in particular the swell of Sam’s ass, before leaning down and biting that very thing. Sam half-shouts, half-laughs, and I give him another swat.

“Shh,” I say, laughing myself.

He rolls back over, making a grab for me. I let him tug me against his chest, not at all complaining about the landing pad. Sam gives me a grin, and my heart does a funny little jig. Sighing, I relax against Sam’s solid chest, letting my fingertips drift along the constellation at his hip.

“Tell me something?” I say. “Before you go?”

Sam exhales, fingers toying with my arm. “I was calf-ropin’ champ three years in a row.”

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