A Flighty Fake Boyfriend (Men of St. Nachos #2) - Z.A. Maxfield Page 0,78
places that were mildly sensitive or downright annoying. Then he’d go back to the top of my ass crack, my super ticklish ribs, the nape of my neck, my balls and my taint, and—gods—my hole. I could have come from his attention to my hole alone.
When the tickling stopped, he used massage oils that warmed my skin. He held ice in his mouth and gave cold kisses, licks, and shivery damp play bites to my nipples. He applied chilly suction to my cock and balls.
Over the course of a few hours, he raised goosebumps over my skin and ignited every nerve in my body. Yet he still didn’t let me come.
“Yellow. Please.” I finally mutinied by shoving off the mask. I cried out. “You little monster. Please. Please, let me come.”
“You come when I say. Not one second before.” He cupped my face and glared down at me. “Got that?”
Oh God, oh God, bossy Epic lit a fuse inside me.
“Yes. All right.” I heaved a shuddering sigh and prepared for the whole cycle to start over. “Yellow. No mask. I want to see you, please.”
“Fine.” He accepted my terms.
“I want to watch your face while you torture me.”
“Mm. You'd like that? You want to see me when I own your tight pink hole?”
“God yes.” Fingers of bright sunlight stretched into long golden bars on the floor before he relented and gave me what I asked for.
“Oh God.” My head fell back against the pillow. “Oh God. Let me come. Let me come.”
That time, Epic didn’t stop. He sucked and swallowed until I was empty and limp—every muscle in my body loose and pulsing gently.
Epic crawled up beside me to undo the binding on my hands. We exchanged languid, cum-flavored kisses. I rolled him beneath me and lay between his legs.
“What do you need?” I asked.
He glanced at the clock. “What time is it?”
“Four-ish. You want to fuck me? You can pass out after for an hour, and we’ll still make the banquet.”
“You know me so well.” His cheeks darkened. “Is me dropping out like that a problem for you? I mean, I could probably stay awake, but I always feel so good. I let my eyes close and boom, it's like being a kid again and I nod off.”
Was that a gap in Epic’s self-confidence? “Of course not. If you need sleep, sleep. I think it’s charming.”
“Says the man who stays awake half the night worrying about work.”
“You know me so well.” I turned his words back on him as he rolled us both and reached for the lube.
“C’mere you.” I came. Rather, I came again once he’d worked his way into my body and pounded me through the mattress.
God, he was beautiful. He fucked with every cell in his body. He fucked like it made him happy just to be fucking and he laughed about the silly things sex makes people do. He didn’t have an ounce of shame over squelching noises, or dripping sweat, or his ‘O’ face, when I knew mine was pretty slack-jawed and unhandsome.
We fell onto our backs afterward, and in no time Epic was asleep. I cleaned up, cleaned him, watched him sleep for a bit like a lovesick hound dog, and prayed he’d never know I was having stupid, purple-prose thoughts about his youth, and beauty, and goodness.
An hour later, he woke. We kissed in the shower. Kissed while applying shaving cream, kissed to mingle our colognes, kissed on our way out the door to the banquet.
I straightened his tie in the elevator.
He mussed my hair with both hands.
At the door to the correct ballroom, I handed my invitation to an usher, who led us to a table at the front of the room. AIM Environmental Energy’s theme for the night appeared to be “nature is awesome.” We had to dodge live trees and planters with twinkling lights that simulated fireflies.
“This is nostalgic.” The room had a definite outdoor-wedding vibe. There were even ivy-covered trellises leading to the stage.
“I like it.” I unbuttoned my jacket and sat in the spot reserved for me.
Epic sat beside me in a spot marked guest. “This reminds me of a Rainforest Cafe.”
Me too, especially because they were playing trickling rain sounds in the background.
“It’s nice.” The room felt cool and smelled of earth and ivy. “I like the lights. Firefly populations are declining worldwide, so it’s nice to pretend.”
Epic nudged me with his elbow. “Silver lining, meet big ugly cloud.”