Iced Out (Leighton U #1)(43)

He tosses my shirt to the bed with my jacket before starting on his own clothes. “I know I do. Just like it’s something you like about me.”

Nail on the head.

“I wouldn’t go that far with it,” I say, trying to play off his comment.

Disbelief crosses his features. “The tent pitched in your pants begs to differ.”

And would you look at that, he’s right. The traitorous appendage between my legs made me a liar.

“I’m gay and you’re an attractive man currently stripping in front of me. Of course I’m going to get hard.”

“The only reason?” he counters, now shirtless and working the belt free from the loops. “Pure, carnal instinct? Nothing else?”

My cock throbs behind the zipper of my slacks, and not just because Quinton is now down to only his underwear. Apparently, his taunting is yet another thing capable of turning me on.

“Nope. Nothing el—”

“Just shut up, Oakley.”

Without any preamble, he hauls me in from the back of my neck until our lips collide. His tongue teases along the seam, coaxing me to open. The second I do, it’s an all-out war.

He fucks his talented tongue against mine, and my dick grows impossibly harder in my pants. Aching to be released from its confines and have its own turn with Quinton’s mouth.

“Fuck,” I mutter, anchoring my fist in his hair as I explore his throat. “What the hell are you doing to me?”

“I don’t know, but believe me, the feeling’s mutual.” His hands coast down my back, and he arches his neck into where my lips are brushing against his skin. “Is it weird to say I’ve missed you?”

I grin before moving to capture his bottom lip between my teeth. “You’ve been with me almost all day.”

Though I have to admit, I understand completely. The time we’ve been spending together has become this weird security blanket, and it’s becoming a bit of a problem.

I guess it’s more than just the sex that’s addictive. He is too.

“I’ve missed you.” His arm snakes between us, palming my cock through my pants. With a naughty smirk resting on his lips, he lifts his gaze to meet mine. “I’m planning to fucking worship this tonight.”

I hum, my hips seeking more friction from his hand. “Using me for sex, de Haas?”

He chuckles, a dimple popping in his cheek, and I nip at it. “Could be using you for a lot worse things.”

Another scorching kiss is pressed on my lips, tongue once again diving in for more, kneading and twisting with mine while he works to open my pants.

I break away to catch my breath, helping him shove the fabric and my underwear to my feet. “You’re in quite the rush.”

“Mmm,” he hums, wrapping his hand around my shaft. “Worshiping properly takes time. I’m not looking to waste any.”

I almost drag him to one of the beds with that comment, ready to get this little celebration kicked off in the best way. His mouth wrapped around my dick.

But a new side of Quinton came out to play tonight, becoming more apparent when he shoves me back onto the mattress, strips out of his briefs, and climbs up to straddle my waist. His ass bumps and grinds down on my aching length as he dives in for another kiss and pillages my mouth some more, the combination of sensations driving me crazy.

God, I wasn’t wrong when I said his mouth would be my undoing. But I didn’t consider the way the rest of him does too. His taste and scent, the sinful dimples I just can’t get enough of. The way his fingers coast over my skin, light as a feather, before gripping on to me for dear life.

Everything he does unravels me a little more.

He reaches beneath him, wrapping his palm around me and gives an expert stroke. My eyes roll back in my head, lost in the blissful nirvana of his touch. It’s not long before I begin rocking up into his hand—seeking more friction as my desire builds—and the movement causes his cock to bob in front of him. Hard, glistening with precum, and ready to get in on the action.

It’s then I realize, as much as I want to feel his exceptionally enthusiastic mouth wrapped around my dick, I want my turn at his too. After all, going down on him seems to be a common thing with scoring hat tricks, and I’m looking to test this theory again for tomorrow’s game.

“Lemme taste you.”

He laughs. “And what if I wanted to go first?”

I can’t believe I’m about to suggest this, but… “Then turn around.”

His brows furrow, hand faltering on my cock. “What?”

“Just do it, or I’ll make you,” I tell him, already grabbing at his hips to do it myself. Thankfully, he helps me out, flipping us into the perfect—

“Sixty-nine?” Quinton says, eyeing me from over his shoulder. “Now who’s in a rush?”

I hike a brow up. “It’s better than arguing about who has to wait their turn sucking dick.”

A disgruntled expression crosses his face, his nose wrinkling up a little when he figures I’m right. Or he just doesn’t want to argue with me.

Either way, it’s a win-win for me.

“Good. Now give me my reward.”

“Your reward?” he asks with a laugh.

I flick the tip of my tongue over his crown. “I said what I said.”