Joker (Hell's Ankhor #8) - Aiden Bates Page 0,48

the hard line of his cock was pressing hot against my hip.

“Mm, good morning,” I murmured against his lips as I rocked my hips against his. My own erection had gone from a morning regularity to something a little more intense. Heat dripped down my spine, slow and melty like honey, as I grinded against him.

“Ah,” Joker said in response, shivering again as I pressed my thigh up and into his crotch. “Fuck, Brennan.”

He dug his fingers into my ass, then inhaled sharply as I increased the pressure against his cock.

“Feels good?” I asked, rolling my hips a little harder.

Joker tilted his head back, mouth open, and I trailed kisses down his neck, adding an edge of teeth along his collarbones. “Yeah,” Joker groaned. “Fuck, yeah, really good.”

“Wanna come like this?” I asked, and my own voice was a little breathy, too. “Can you?”

“Yeah,” Joker admitted. His cock throbbed against my hip, so hard I could feel it through the sweatpants. Was he leaking precum, too? Getting all wet and messy inside a pair of my sweatpants? Fuck, the thought made my slow desire a little more urgent.

Then Joker started rocking his hips to meet mine, a little faster and harder, panting.

“Come on,” I encouraged him, mouthing more kisses along his chest, neck, shoulder. “So fucking hot. Come on, take what you need.”

Joker groaned, low and long, clinging to me almost desperately as his hips stuttered. He dug his fingers almost painfully hard into my ass, and then pulled me impossibly closer as he groaned low and long. His cock pulsed against my hip as he came.

God, that was so fucking sexy—watching him fall apart like a teenager, just from rubbing against me, still clothed. I shoved him onto his back and kissed him hard and messy, sudden need rushing through me; Joker just moaned happily and let me press him hard against the bed.

“You’re so hot,” I murmured against his mouth. I was close already, just from watching him get off, and I thrust my cock against his hip.

“Yeah?” Joker asked. “Like watching me?”

“Fuck, yeah,” I groaned.

Joker wriggled a hand between us and slipped it beneath the waistband of my boxers. Then, without teasing, he gripped my cock hard.

The pleasure that shot through me was almost overwhelming, and I buried my face in his neck. My cock dribbled precum, and it eased Joker’s tight, hot grip. His hand felt so good—how was that possible? How could he make me so crazy with just his hand? I mouthed messily at his neck, overwhelmed by his solid body, his addictive scent, and his expert touch as he jerked me off.

My orgasm coiled hot in my gut, and every muscle of my body tensed as I gasped. I came hard, eyes screwed shut so tightly that I saw stars as I spilled ropes of cum over his hand and my own boxers.

Then, with a heavy sigh, I flopped down onto Joker’s body. He laughed and pulled his hand out from my boxers with some effort.

“Tired again,” I said lazily against his skin.

“Good thing we have nothing to do to today,” Joker said warmly, as he stroked his clean hand across my shoulders. We lay like that for a long, comfortable moment, until Joker huffed a breath and dropped a kiss onto the crown of my head.

“Go back to sleep,” he said. “I’m gonna get in the shower.”

“We could shower together,” I murmured. I raised up just enough to let him crawl out of bed, and then flopped back onto my belly with a sigh.

“In your tiny shower? No way,” Joker said with a laugh.

“Maybe I’ll reno that next,” I said.

Joker showered first, then slipped downstairs. Eventually I climbed out of bed, too, feeling warm and happy and comfortable, knowing Joker was waiting downstairs for me. It felt right, sharing space with him, navigating these easy domesticities.

When I made my way into the kitchen, Joker already had the coffee brewing. He looked comfortable in my kitchen, padding around in just his boxer-briefs and one of my old t-shirts. I found I really liked how he looked in my clothes.

“What do you want for breakfast?” he asked, peering into my fridge like he owned the place. I grinned at the image. “Slim pickin’s in here, honestly.”

“What? I’ve got eggs,” I said with a grin. “And there’s some sausage in the freezer.”

Joker pulled the eggs out of the fridge, then cast his gaze suspiciously to the counter. “I meant to ask you something.”

“Anything,” I said.

“The