Page 100 of Lucky Shot
“What else?” I ask.
“Beach cleanup. And an LGBT protest in Miami. Florida is a shitshow these days.”
I nod. “Be careful. Those things can get violent.”
“You can come with me,” he says, once more eyeing me from the corner of his eye. “Protect me and whatever.”
I smirk. “Is this your way of asking or…?”
Pretty bites his lip. “While I realize we haven’t even been here twenty-four hours yet… I don’t know. I can already feel the dread curling in my stomach at the thought of going back to the opposite side of the country from you. I thought maybe… we could prolong the summer and spend time together. If you want to.”
We’re at the door to our room, so I open it before I answer. As soon as it clicks shut behind me and I can throw the extra locks, I turn Pretty around and pick him up, wrapping his legs around my waist. My hands grip his perfect round ass firmly and his grin is huge as his arms circle my neck. “Yes. I want to.”
While his smile doesn’t appear to change, the light in his eyes does. Shining. Almost shimmering as if there were stars trapped there.
“Is it too corny to say that I’ve been dreaming of you my entire life?” he asks. “Or maybe it’s not too corny, but too soon to be spewing that kind of thing. You can ignore me.”
I chuckle and capture his mouth with mine. I love how Pretty doesn’t do anything by halves. There’s zero hesitation. Absolutely no holding back. Nothing light about the kiss at all.
It’s heat and enthusiasm. Longing. Needy and lusty and filled with such profound affection, it has its own taste. Even as I set him on the edge of the bed, I don’t take my mouth from his as I unwrap him like a present. I’m not slow about it this time. I can’t be. Instead, I’m that eight-year-old on Christmas morning tearing paper off the present he’s been waiting for and wishing and begging for the entire year.
When he’s finally naked, I trail kisses down his throat and chest. Noah’s hands don’t move from my hair, as if he’s trying to guide me where he wants me, but he’s not sure where that is. His mouth. His stomach. Or his cock.
He wriggles on the bed, trying to get all of the above. “Take your clothes off,” he says. “Please. I need to see you.”
I move away long enough to strip. There’s nothing sexy about it but he looks at me with such blazing fire in his eyes I can feel the inferno from where I stand. His mouth is open as he pants for breath, his eyes never leaving me as he watches greedily at every new inch of skin I expose.
I’m not graceful. Not patient. I think I both rip my trouser zipper and lose a button from my shirt. But I couldn’t care less right now. Tomorrow I might care, but not right now.
Before I touch him again, I grab the box of condoms and container of lube from my bag and toss them on the bed. There’s no way I’ll be getting up once I’m on him. It’ll make for a very frustrating night if I don’t have them readily available
Now the moment’s here and I crawl over him, urging him to scoot up the bed so his head is in the pillows. We slow down as if we just know that this moment needs to be prolonged. Not because it’s the first or last time. Or because it’s monumental for other reasons. But because we need to memorize each other’s bodies. Sounds. Tastes.
“You’re hard,” he says.
I snort and raise my brow. “So are you, Pretty.”
He laughs and shakes his head. “I just mean,you’re hard. Forme.”
My sweet boy. I trace my nose up his stomach, his sternum, his neck. His breaths are ragged and shallow as he wiggles under me. When my mouth is just barely touching his, his fingertips on my jaw, I say, “I’m not sure if you’re aware, but I’m really fucking attached to you, Pretty. You touch every single cell inside me.”
Pretty’s eyes turn glassy as he blinks a few times. “I need you inside me. I need to feel you.”
Then his mouth is on mine as he refuses to let go of my face. Keeping me there so he can devour me. I fumble blindly with the lube and shift my body so I can reach between us. He breaks our mouths apart long enough to say, “I prepped in the shower when I got here so I don’t need a lot. Just a refresher.”
I chuckle, but I have no time to respond because he’s cut off my words with his mouth again. There’s a slight hiccup in his kiss when I breach his hole with a single finger, but he adjusts quickly. When I give him two, he moans into my mouth. The third has him gasping and while he doesn’t let my mouth move from his, we’re no longer kissing.
I’m not in a hurry now, though. I want everything about this to be good for him. He moans and moves against my fingers, working himself on me. I’m so lost in feeling him, tasting his mouth and sucking on his tongue, that I don’t realize he’s got a condom in his hand until he’s blindly trying to roll it on me.
Taking that for the hint it is, I help him with my free hand. When I get it in place, his hands are back and stroking me with lube.
I groan, pulling my mouth free from his. Fuck, it’s been a long time since I’ve let someone touch me. Mindlessly, I thrust into his hand, matching his rhythm as I stare, almost unseeingly, into his eyes.
“Now,” he whispers.
We’ve talked about this a lot. Both in the conversational sense and also during the role-playing moments when I tell him exactly what I want to do to him. It doesn’t seem to matter that we’ve discussed it many times. Or that I’ve watched videos of him doing all kinds of things to his cock and pretty hole.
When I finally push my cockhead inside his body, the guttural groan that resonates through my entire body has my eyes rolling. My forehead falls to his as I slowly ease my way in. His hands move along my sides, mouth open as he takes shuttering, uneven breaths as I slowly make my way inside his body.
