Merry Measure - Lily Morton Page 0,30

mouth is soft and full, and I can taste lemon from the lemon-drop shots on his tongue. I clasp his neck and bury my fingers in his hair, opening my mouth for his tongue and moaning.

We kiss hotly until he pushes me back. His eyes gleam, and I lean into him drunkenly. He grabs my hand and we leave, neither of us looking back.

The journey back to the hotel in the taxi is made in silence, and the only contact we allow ourselves is secret and almost sweet. He holds my hand on his thigh, and I flex the fingers, enjoying the play of his strong leg muscles. I trace them, and he shudders. I look up at him. His face is shadowed, but his eyes gleam in the darkness. I swallow and watch the way his eyes follow my throat.

Two seconds after the hotel room’s door shuts behind us, he tumbles me onto the bed, following quickly and half falling on me. We lie there in a clumsy mess, all giggles and drunken groans. We kiss and the mood changes. His mouth is soft and lush against my own, the taste of lemon drops lingering, and need rages through me.

His fast breaths are hot on the side of my face. I pull him fully on top of me, glorying in the weight and heat of his hard body. I wrap my legs around his narrow hips, pushing and grinding against him until he pulls away to give a soft moan.

He levers up slightly, resting on his hands while his lower body continues to grind into mine. His face is flushed, his lips dark and full, as he stares down at me. “God,” he mutters.

“I know. Get back down here, Jack.”

I groan in happiness as he obeys, pressing kisses against my neck. When he sits up, I make a sound of disapproval.

He grabs my T-shirt’s hem. “Off,” he says in a guttural voice.

I hasten to obey, whipping it off quickly. Although, it would’ve been much quicker if the fucking thing didn’t get caught on my head.

“Ouch,” I say plaintively, struggling against the strangling fabric.

“Wait,” he says, the laughter rich in his voice. “Wait, and I’ll do it.” He works his fingers into the neck hole and enlarges it to slip the T-shirt neatly off my head. I toss it aside. There’s a crash, but I ignore it and take a welcome gasp of air.

“Well, that’s one way to kill the mood,” I say conversationally as he kneels over me, swaying slightly. “Not many men can keep a hard-on while their partner strangles himself.”

A smile ticks at his mouth as he takes my hand and presses it to his hard cock. “I’m not most men,” he whispers.

“And maybe that’s something you need to worry about. But for now…” I squeeze him. “I want this in my mouth.”

He’s wild-haired and bleary-eyed, and I’ve no doubt I look the same. I can still feel the alcohol running through my veins.

He pauses. “Are you sure about this?” he says. “We’ve had a lot to drink. We don’t have to do anything.”

I smile up at him. He’s so bloody sweet. “I’d want to do this if I’d been sober for twenty years.” I eye him. “Do you want to do it?”

“God, yes,” he says fervently. He tears off his shirt, losing a few buttons in the process. Then he falls on his back and toes off his shoes before stripping off his jeans. His blue and white striped boxers barely contain his erection. I bite my lip avariciously. God, he’s big.

I run my finger down his length. He arches into my touch, all the muscles in his torso tightening, and he gives a low groan that makes my cock twitch. When I cup him, moving my hand up and down, I can feel the precome moistening his boxers. “I need to suck you,” I say, my mouth watering. “I want this in my mouth.”

He opens his eyes and gazes up at me before nodding frantically and removing his boxers. “I want to taste you,” he says in a low voice. He manoeuvres until he’s lying full length on the bed with his head hanging off the side. “Like this,” he says. “Get your clothes off.”

“I think I could come just hearing you say those words,” I inform him getting off the bed and standing over him.

I tear off my clothing so fast I should win an award. I quickly grab my cock at the base