Page 63 of Fall for Him

When he had put on his kneepads to work on the floor earlier, he hadn’t thought about this alternative-use case.

Derek rose up on his elbows. As he opened his eyes, the heat behind them begged for more. Derek’s teeth sank into his lower lip as Dylan positioned himself above Derek’s dripping cock.

“Dylan… please…”

“I think I’ll give you what you want. If you ask really nicely.”

“Let me fuck your mouth, Dylan. Please…” The S of “please” sliced through the silence.

Dylan’s tongue teased Derek’s tip, relishing the taste of what was to come. “I could come just from doing this, you know? From licking you.”

“Don’t. Let me… I want to—”

The words ended in a moan as Dylan took as much of Derek in his mouth as he could. He sucked and then retreated to lap the dripping spot.

The hand twisting into Dylan’s hair seemed unsure, but Dylan craved the roughness and pushed into the grip, wanting Derek fingers scraping against his scalp.

Derek thrust into him in an uncareful, seemingly involuntary arch.

Yes. Yes. Yes.

Dylan’s entire reality was shrinking to the study of Derek’s reactions. He learned which strokes made Derek seize up and shudder. He wanted the perfect body beneath him to lose control because of Dylan’s mouth. Dylan’s tongue. Dylan’s splayed fingers wandering and digging into Derek’s taut ass, coaxing him into a relentless rhythm.

“Dylan.” Derek’s exhales became guttural. Cursing, he snaked his fingers into Dylan’s hair again, holding it tighter. “I’m going to…”

Dylan pushed their pace into a final fury, never pulling away. Derek’s hand slid beneath the neckline of Dylan’s shirt, holding on as his body jolted, giving Dylan everything he wanted.

Dylan’s face lifted to enjoy the smooth satisfaction on the face of the man beneath him.

“Come here.” Derek pulled Dylan up into a kiss.

Could Derek taste himself on Dylan’s tongue? Dylan’s core pulsed with the idea as his kneepads scraped the hardwood.

Derek wrapped spent, clumsy arms around Dylan’s shoulders. “Fuck.”

Dylan grinned against Derek’s chest.

He was almost asleep when Derek spoke again.

“Want to go to bed?”

“Definitely.”

“Definitely, huh?” Derek’s grip slid beneath the back of Dylan’s pants.

“Oh…” Dylan’s body tensed, unexpectedly nervous again. “I think… Just sleeping though tonight… okay, babe? We’re both tired.”

That seemed to rouse Derek from his blow job–addled stupor. His eyebrows scrunched together again. This expression was quickly becoming Dylan’s favorite. It was so earnest and trusting. Derek was all dusty from Dylan’s work clothes but he didn’t seem to mind.

“I’m not too tired to…” Derek palmed Dylan’s fly.

“You’re so tired that you’re half asleep. I’m two-thirds asleep. Mr. Manly-enough-to-ask-to-be-the-little-spoon, I just want to spoon the hell out of you after I shower and get my work clothes off.”

“Kay.” Derek grinned.

“Smartass.”

“Oh, just wait. You are not ready for this ass, Dylan.”

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