ache.
“So I brought the tablet, but don’t you have one of your own?” He took a few steps closer. I held up my left hand to stop him.
“Take off your clothes,” I said, surprised at the timbre of my voice. His brown eyes flared. “Take off your clothes.” He looked around as if expecting Colorado or Ryker to jump out and yell “Gotcha!” but no one was here but us. “Take. Off. Your. Clothes.”
I saw the giddy nervousness creep into his gaze. “You’re serious?”
“I am always serious. I do not want to ask again. Take off your clothes. Slowly,” I added when he tossed the tablet and shoe to the bedside table and yanked at his tank top. “Slowly. Strip for me. Make me want you.”
“What are we doing, an LGBT remake of True Lies or what?” He joked nervously.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He rolled his eyes. “Watch a movie sometime. True Lies? Arnold and Jamie Lee? She does that sexy strip tease for Arnold who’s sitting in a chair and—never mind. I don’t know…you want me to like shake my ass or just get naked?”
“Take off your clothes slowly then come to me on your hands and knees.”
His eyes went wider, but he liked what I was suggesting. I could see it in the way he wet his lips and began moving, lifting his shirt up inch by inch, baring his abs then his chest. His tiny nipples were hard. My tongue ached to flick them. I took another sip of vodka and watched the show. He wasn’t going to win any awards for sensual movements, but then again he was a big, muscular hockey player, not a lithe dancer.
When he stood there nude, I ran my gaze over him, lingering on his thighs and hard cock then moving up over his stomach to his face. His pupils were blown already. Oh yes, he liked this sort of dynamic.
“Come to me. Crawl over. Put your cheek on my groin, resting your nose against my dick.” I was surprised at how smooth my voice sounded. My heart was thumping. Tate went down with more grace than he’d shown during his impromptu striptease. Eyes locked on me, Tate made his way to me on his hands and knees. I spread my legs for him when he drew close. He never hesitated as he wiggled between my thighs and put his cheek on my erection. I placed my left hand to his head, pushed gently, and rubbed my cock against his nose and lips. He gasped, turning his head just so to nibble at my length. I rocked up more, pushing against his lips. His tongue darted out and I came close to dropping my drink. “Enough. Pick up your head.”
He did. I slid my free hand around the back of his neck and lifted him upward, pulling him over me, his bare chest lying against my clothed one. He opened for me the moment my lips touched his. God above, he was made for me. His mouth tasted sweet, like soda pop. I swept in deep. He met me stroke for stroke, soft little moans of pleasure sneaking out of his mouth when I’d tip his head this way or that.
“Vlad,” he gasped, the sound of my name on that hot exhalation nearly had me coming in my pants. That was not happening. Tonight, I was coming inside him.
“Mm, such a beautiful man you are,” I purred, nipping down his jaw to his neck where I sucked and bit until he was whimpering. “Get on the bed.”
I released him, hoping to gain a little lost control when he left me. That never happened. Seeing Tate spreading himself across the massive king-sized bed, ass in the air, was more than I could take. I tossed back my vodka, reached for my small toiletry bag that held shaving supplies, my toothbrush, and comb, as well as condoms and lube, and was resting by my chair, and got to my feet.
His ragged breaths filled the room. I reached out with a finger, trailing it down the crack of his ass. He jerked and whined, muttering something about losing his mind.
“Do you want me to take you like this, from behind?” I cupped his balls. He pulled in a long breath between his teeth. “Is it what you want?”
“I…yeah… maybe. It’s on the gay porn that I’ve seen.”
Smiling, I rolled his heavy sac. “Did you always watch gay porn?”
“Maybe.”
That confession made me smile