Him (Him #1)(42)

One eye opens. “All the time,” he mumbles, and I experience a jolt of jealousy, wondering which lucky girl helped him discover it. Jamie groans again. “Keep doing that. Please…don’t stop…”

This guy is under the impression that stopping is even an option. I would, of course, if he asked me to, but as long as he’s begging for my mouth? For my finger? Nothing short of dying will stop me from giving it to him. I’ll give him every f*cking part of myself, serve it to him like a feast at a banquet.

Jamie Canning has no idea the kind of power he has over me.





21





Jamie





I thought I had sex down to a science. I mean, it’s not difficult. Kissing, foreplay, intercourse. I’ve tried almost every sexual position known to man, even the crazy ones you see in porn, where the chick pulls some exorcist-contortionist maneuver while I pound into her.

But my ass was never part of the deal.

Right now, it is the deal. Because even though Wes’s mouth engulfs my cock like it’s trying to swallow me whole, the arousal humming in my blood is centered solely on the pressure between my ass cheeks. It’s good pressure. A slight burn that turns into a mind-melting rush of pleasure each time he hits this one spot inside me.

He’s destroying me. He’s bringing to life nerve endings I didn’t know existed. It’s unfamiliar. It’s new. And experiencing it is a million times hotter than watching it happen to some other guy in a porn clip.

“So good,” I choke out. “Jesus, don’t stop…baby.” He called me that before and I test it out now. It feels weird leaving my mouth. As weird as the new sensations coursing through me and tingling in my ass.

I wasn’t sure I’d like this, but I do. God, I do. When his tongue ring scrapes the underside of my dick, I shiver, my breath catching. His finger is lodged inside me, and I wonder what it would feel like if he slipped another one in there. Or if he used something other than a finger…

I suddenly think of the porn I watched earlier, the husky moans of the guy who was being drilled, and the dirty memory makes me clamp harder around Wes.

He lifts his head abruptly, his finger stilling but not withdrawing.

Uneasiness circles my gut as I meet his eyes. Lust has darkened them to stormy silver, and his throat works as he swallows.

“Why did you stop?” I swallow, too. “Are you going to…f*ck me now?”

The question brings a jolt of panic. As hot as it was to watch on a screen, I don’t think I’m ready to experience that for myself yet. I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready—

“No.” He’s quick to reassure me, his gaze softening when he sees my face. “Not unless you want me to.”

“I…” I bite my lip. “I…don’t know. Maybe another time.” Maybe another time? God, when I go gay, I really go gay.

Wes’s lips quiver. “We’ll put a pin in that.”

I shudder out a laugh. “Why’d you stop then?”

“Just wanted to do this,” he says roughly, and then his finger disappears as he slides up and brushes his mouth over mine.

The kiss goes from sweet to molten in a matter of seconds. His tongue fills my mouth in deep, hungry strokes that make me gasp. I’m eager for more, desperate for it, but he’s gone again before I can blink, crawling back between my legs.

This time when his finger slips past that puckered ring of muscle, I welcome the burn. I crave it. Wes licks a hot line from the tip of my cock to my aching balls, teasing the delicate sac while his finger toys with me. When I try to push my ass against it, he retreats, a dark chuckle fanning over my shaft.

Jesus. I can’t take it anymore. I need to come before I self-combust.

“Stop being a cocktease,” I growl. “Give me what I want.”

His tongue ring teases my slit. “Yeah, and what do you want, baby?”

“For you to suck me dry.”

Wes pushes his finger in deeper, rubbing that spot that makes me see stars. My prostate. Why hasn’t anyone ever told me the prostate was some kind of magical pleasure zone? Are there unicorns and orgasm fairies dancing around in there?

“Ask me nicely and I’ll consider it.” He grins up at me.

I narrow my eyes at him. “Make me come, jackass.”

His laughter sends my heart soaring. Which is the most confusing thing of all, because it adds an element to the sex I didn’t expect. I’m comfortable with him. I have fun with him. I’m not trying to impress anyone. It’s…easy. Like splashing in the lake. But with orgasms.

“You’re a bossy bastard, Canning.” His lips tickle the head of my cock. “I f*cking love it.”

And I love what he’s doing to me. The sucking, the blunt fingertip rubbing inside me. It’s not long before the tension gathers again. A knot of pleasure that coils tighter and tighter until finally I cup the back of Wes’s head and bear down on his finger as the orgasm shoots through me. Out of me.

Wes drinks me up like he can’t get enough, humming around my cock, and I have to tug on his hair to get him to stop once my dick has had enough.

I lie there panting. When my breathing finally slows to an almost normal rate, Wes is straddling my thighs, his hard dick in two hands. He jacks himself slowly. My gaze rests on his erection, long and proud, the engorged head making my mouth water. It’s the same response I have when a girl parts her legs for me, offering that sweet paradise to my mouth or dick. I never thought another guy’s package could look appealing too, and I really wish I knew what it meant.