I feel his response in my own dick, that surge. The guttural shock of attraction so strong it feels like a dare.
We’re both wearing sweatpants and nothing else. His fit him. Mine are Jack’s and so low on my hips I feel the fucking breeze. I feelhimas he presses harder, wrenching his mouth free of mine to give me a slow burning up and down.
I return the gesture, and the madness that’s taken hold of us allows me not to think about the absence of an ounce of spare flesh on his efficient frame. Instead I trace his inked skin with onlywanton my mind, and I let my hands wander to his waistband. “You’re wearing too many clothes.”
Aye, that’s right. That single item needs togo.
“Take them off me then.”
Fuck. We’re really doing this. The gravity of it pokes at my common sense, but desire overrides my cognitive function and I ease his sweats down just enough to free his dick.
Hardness fills my fist, long and thick.
Hot.
I wrap my fingers around him and squeeze with a bare twist of friction, and I get my reward in another sharp breath. Another inhale that seems to get stuck.
Need to fix that.
I don’t want him throttling his own pleasure. I want him to letgo,and if I give him nothing else before I leave Porth Luck, I want to give him that.
Ineedto.
My free hand finds its way to Skylar’s throat, where it’s been before. I squeeze his dick again, and his gaze darts to where I’m holding him, watching my hand shift and flex, bottom lip caught between his teeth.
I apply more faint pressure to his neck, tracking his reaction. The way his breathing heavies as I bring my mouth to his. “You like that?”
Skylar laughs, harsh and short. “Of course I fucking like it.”
Good to know. I do it again, fascinated by every snatched inhale, smothering the coolness that seems to plague him when he’s not lying in the sunshine beside me or going hell for leather in the gym.
I grasp his throat harder and kiss him again, deepening it, stealing the breath from his lungs for as long as he lets me, before he surges back stronger and his hands slide lower, making tracks down my overheated skin.
My breath is already laboured, but with Skylar’s touch gaining purpose, urgency steals over me. I don’t know what he’s going to do, but I already fucking love it. I’m already arching into his grip as he frees my cock and bands his fingers around it.
It’s my turn to stare down and watch him work his magic. Watch him push my hand aside and take us both in his.
We look good together.
My pulse quickens, thumping in my ears in a way that has fucking frightened me recently. But as I shiver to the slow rhythm he sets, my body flexing in time with his, real life and all that comes with it is a long way from my mind.
I groan into his mouth.
He bites me again, his hand moving faster, and fuck, he’s good at this, but I’m not surprised. I don’t know what other people see when they look at Skylar, but I’ve seen pure sex in him from day one.
It starts to get messy. I could come like this, but I don’t want to. Not yet. I tug his hair again and use his momentary distraction to spin us.
I lose the magic of his hand gripping my dick, but I can live with that. I shove him against the door, revelling in his spiked reaction.
Fight me, I’ll let you win.
Unless he kills me first.
I work my mouth along his jaw, finding a spot on his neck that has him tipping his head to give me better access, another rough breath escaping him.
He likes that.
I file it away for later. Dig my teeth in a little harder. Then my hand returns to his throat. Briefly. “Fuck my mouth.”