Leveled (Saints of Denver #0.5)(22)
He let out a heavy breath and the weight of it across my parted lips was an entirely different kind of kiss.
“Is this the do you wanna f*ck or get f*cked talk?” It was so crude and blatant that it shocked a laugh out of me.
“Uh … yeah. Pretty much.” I stilled as his hands slid around my naked waist and into the slack top of my pants so that they rested on the curve at the top of my ass.
“I don’t care.” He breathed the words out and I tasted their sincerity as they touched my lips.
“You don’t care?” That was unusual and it raised a flag of alarm. I wanted him to take what was happening between the two of us as seriously I was. I moved my hands to his shoulders and pulled my head back so that we were looking at each other eye to eye. “How can you not care?”
He grunted at me and moved back so that he could pull his own shirt over his head. I was distracted momentarily by the flex and stretch of his toned torso.
“Sometimes I care. Depends on the guy and the situation. With you I don’t care. I’m happy you’re here so I’ll take you any way I can get you.”
That might be the most flattering thing anyone had ever said to me and if he was down for whatever¸ then I could roll with that. I was kind of in the same frame of mind. As long as I got to have some part of him I didn’t really care about how I got it.
Now I was the one that was impatient and wanted him naked as fast as I could get him. I finally went backwards on the bed and went after his heavy silver belt buckle with fingers that seemed to have forgotten how to work. The task was made even more difficult as he bent over to finish the job he had started by pulling my pants the rest of the way down my legs. In a matter of minutes, we were both in nothing more than our boxers. I was a cotton or silk kinda guy and it looked like Dom was a boxer brief man. They suited him, but they were in the way, so I reached out a finger and hooked the elastic at the top and tugged.
“You’re right, you do look better out of uniform.” He snorted at me, but it quickly turned into a sharply inhaled breath as I moved the fabric out of the way so that his waiting cock could fall into my eager hands. I curled my fingers around the width and gave the shaft a pump. His hips arched towards me so he leaned forward as I continued to move my fist up and down so that he was bent over me with a hand on the bed next to my head as I fell backwards.
“You look good in my bed, Mr. Fancy-Pants.” His voice was raspy and it was my turn to struggle to breathe as his free hand skipped over the contours of my chest and disappeared into the waistband of my boxers. He freed my erection with a deft touch and rolled his thumb over the tip while I continued to work his shaft up and down with a firm grip.
I cocked an eyebrow and bent a knee to make more room for him between my legs. He seemed to be comfortable where he was, looming over me, looking down at me with heated eyes, so I saw no need to switch places. “I’m not wearing any pants, fancy or otherwise.”
Dom chuckled and lowered his head so that our lips barely touched. The tip of his tongue darted out and licked the center of my top lip super softly. It was just the hint of a touch, the barest of caress and it was almost as sexy as the way his fingers were moving across my throbbing dick. “I know. It’s a good look for you, Lando.”
Heaving chest pressed into heaving chest while our mouths merged and our tongues tangled. We both made a strangled noise as hard cock brushed against hard cock the closer he leaned into me. He bent his elbow so that he was barely hovering over me, our stomachs touched and I liked that he felt so much bigger, so much heavier than anyone else ever had. He was substantial. He was significant … and so was the pleasure that coiled tight and urgent at the base of my spine as we each did our best to get the other off first.
It was a flurry of pumping hands, weeping tips, and bucking hips. Our bodies moved together and against each other kind of like they had been doing so for years instead of minutes, and again I wondered how something so rash, so sudden and unexpected could feel so necessary, so vital. There was no warning with Dominic Voss; there was just the drop and the fall into a swirling vortex of feeling and emotion and I was done trying to catch myself.
He moved his lips to the side of my neck and I moaned a guttural sound and arched up into him as his hot tongue started tracing the long line of vein and muscle that was stretched taut with pleasure as my straining cock swelled and pulsed eagerly into his talented touch. I was on the brink, ready to come, and I could feel the hitch in his breath and the kick in his turgid member that let me know he was close as well. I was going to move my hand lower, urge him to let go first when he levered up off of me, and suddenly let go of my begging dick and pulled his out of my exploring grasp.
I was about to demand he get back and finish what he started when I heard him rummaging around in a drawer on the nightstand next to the bed. I blinked when he was back, hovering over me with a condom in one hand and a familiar bottle of lubrication in the other. I blinked because he was so prepared, so ready, like having a guy show up at his apartment ready for sex was such a common occurrence that he had to have stuff on hand to make sure he got laid without a hitch. It made a sliver of unease slide through the passion and desire that was overriding everything else.
Some of my concern must have made its way onto my face because he stopped in the middle of suiting that mighty impressive erection up in the latex and cocked his head to the side as he looked at me.