Looking for Trouble(50)

“Yes.”

“Why don’t you come out here and show me properly?”

“Because I’m not sure you’ll want to see.”

Clay frowned. “I can promise you I’ll want to see.”

Dylan took a couple of deep breaths, then began to go into the bedroom. Clay walked backward, his eyes scorching Dylan with the heat he saw inside them.

“Mmm. Why were you embarrassed to let me see you like this? You’re so sexy, Trouble. This blend of confidence and bashfulness in such a pretty, pretty package. I never knew I could want someone so much.”

Dylan gasped. Never? But how could that be? Logically, he knew it was Clay speaking in the moment, but it still made him soar.

“Turn around.”

“I don’t know if I should.”

“Oh, you definitely should.”

His brain was buzzing, his thoughts going a million miles a minute. Before they could get the best of him, Dylan turned, and this time it was Clay who gasped.

“It was just for fun…to be sexy. I don’t want you to think it means something. I’m not like…saying I belong to you.”

A low growl sounded behind him, and holy fuck, that was hot. He’d never heard Clay do that with such rumbling intensity before. He heard Clay’s feet against the carpet, and looked over his shoulder just as Clay stopped behind him, his chest bare except for the scruffy hair Dylan loved to rub his face against.

Clay reached out slowly, traced each letter sewed into the strap on his jock.

“Clay’s…” he said huskily. “Mine.”

“Yours. If you want me.”

Clay turned Dylan around, rubbed his calloused hand over Dylan’s smooth ass cheek. When Clay’s fingers dug in, he groaned at the feel of possessiveness in it.

“I would be crazy not to want you, Trouble. I’m a mess, but that’s one thing I know for sure. I don’t know if it’s the right thing…because of Gordon, and your dad…but I want you. You’ve touched a part of me I didn’t know existed before you.”

“The part that has a thing for younger guys?” Dylan teased.

“Smart-ass.”

Before Dylan could reply, Clay’s mouth came down hard on his. It was a claiming kiss, a bruising one that Dylan felt in his soul. Clay fed Dylan his tongue, and Dylan did the same before letting his lips trail down Clay’s neck. He rubbed his face against Clay’s chest hair, relishing the burn, the friction of it. There was nothing like Clay’s chest hair against his skin.

But he wasn’t done. He kept going, kept kissing and rubbing before he went down to his knees.

“I want you,” Clay said as Dylan pulled his sweats down.

“You’ll have me. I’m yours, remember? But you know how much I love sucking your cock.” Dylan adored being on his knees for a man, loved being on his knees for Clay. There was so much power in it, in driving another man wild.

“Well, it’s not like I’m going to complain.”

Dylan chuckled. “I didn’t think so.” And then…then he buried his nose between Clay’s legs, inhaled the woodsy scent mixed with the masculine one unique to him that Dylan could get drunk off of. He sucked Clay’s heavy balls, felt them tighten more as he licked them, inhaling as much of Clay as he could.

“Fuck, Trouble…so good…so fucking good.” Clay’s hand tightened in his hair.

“The fine art of sucking dick. I excel in it,” Dylan teased before taking Clay’s thick rod and pulling it to the back of his throat. He used his hand too, jerking him off as he sucked him, his head moving up and down on Clay’s erection. The more he moved, the harder Clay tugged at his hair and the more it inspired Dylan to work harder, to please him more.

He loved the salty taste of his skin, the scent of his musk, and the way his throat muscles swallowed Clay down each time he thrust.

It was fucking heaven.

Clay’s dick twitched in his mouth, and Dylan knew he was close to coming. Just then, Clay’s hands slid under his arms, and he lifted Dylan to his feet.

“My turn,” he said, and led Dylan to the bed. Before he knew it, they were on the mattress, Dylan on his hands and knees, ass in the air, Clay behind him.

Clay ran his fingers along the stitching. “Mine,” he said again, but this time, Dylan could have sworn there was a soft lilt of wonder to his voice. Like he was in awe, but Dylan couldn’t imagine why he’d be in awe of him. “I don’t know how I got so lucky.”

“Please,” Dylan said, though he didn’t know exactly what he was pleading for—sex? To truly be Clay’s? Something more? He had to adjust himself, pull his cock and balls out of the pouch because it was too damn restricting.

His legs trembled when Clay rubbed the pad of his thumb over his rim. “Goddamn, this hole. Such a tight, pink, pretty little thing.”

Dylan’s cock flexed, precome leaking from the tip. “That might be one of the sexiest things I’ve ever heard.”

“I’ll be sure to say it again.”

Clay tapped his finger, and Dylan moaned, his hole clenching. Fuck, he loved being touched.

“What do you want?” Clay asked.

What did he want? Well, that was a loaded question. Fingers, tongue, dick, he wanted it all. “Your mouth.” That was a good place to start, he figured.