“Rowdy . . .” It was part question, part demand because I was ready for him. I felt like I had been waiting for this, for him to put his hands on me, for him to put his mouth on me forever, even though it had only been a handful of weeks.
He blew out a breath that made my already damp folds quiver in need and I felt him chuckle against the soft skin of my stomach.
“I’ve heard you say my name in a lot of ways, Salem. Gotta say hearing you say it in bed when I’m about to eat you up is probably my favorite to date.”
I was going to tell him to go to hell but lost the ability to think, to speak, when without any warning he dropped to his knees at the edge of the bed and pulled me to his face. It was too much. Too intimate. Too invasive and intense. It was the best thing ever. The boy really was beyond good with his mouth.
He ran his tongue the entire length of my opening. He put my legs over his shoulders and gripped my ass in hard hands as he explored every inch of my quaking and spasming inside with his mouth. I squirmed on the bed, the pleasure almost too much to handle as he used the edge of his teeth on my clit. Sensation raced along every nerve ending I had and I couldn’t breathe past everything I was feeling.
I got a handful of his hair to keep me tethered in the moment and must have given it a harder yank than I intended because he hissed out a breath that I felt on every damp surface of skin I had between my legs. He muttered something dark and sexy that I couldn’t make out and snaked one of his hands from my rear to the front, and just as he trapped that little tiny bud of desire between his teeth and sucked—hard—he maneuvered his very talented digits in to replace his stroking and seeking tongue and I lost my mind.
The double stimulation, the twist and twirl of his strong fingers combined with the relentless suction of his hot mouth, was too much to take. There was no buildup, no steady climb to a blissful orgasm. No, instead it all barreled at me in a blinding rush that swept me away on a wave of overwhelming pleasure and release. It made him chuckle again, which had ripples of undiluted gratification chasing the sound along all the sensitive flesh he was still manipulating and playing with.
I had never had an orgasm that actually made me hurt before. It hurt so good that I felt it in every cell, in every breath, in every blink as I peeled my eyes open and tried to remember where I was, who I was, and who I was with.
I still had ahold of his hair, so I gave it a tug to get him to let up on all my quaking folds. He let my legs slide limply off his shoulders and crawled up the bed so that he was hovering over me. He braced himself over me with his hands on either side of my head as he smirked down at me. He looked entirely too pleased with himself.
“Oh, Salem . . .” He let out a long sigh and bent to kiss me on the temple. “You’re without a doubt going to me make so glad we’re both all grown up.”
That was the sweet, flirty side of him he usually reserved for everyone else but me. I knew it for exactly what it was. A way to keep this on a light and playful level. A way to keep it in perspective, because even though I had been the one on the receiving end of his attentions while he teased and played with me, I knew he had felt the deeper connection we had, too. There was doubt that something was happening between us that had shades of the past and flavors of the future all mixed together in one giant ball of emotion and experience.
I rubbed my hands on his cheeks, let my fingers tickle the soft brush of his sideburns, and used my thumb to brush along the damp curve of his lower lip. I trailed my hands across his broad shoulders and over the defined planes of his tattooed pecs. I traced the words scrolled there and met his gaze solemnly. “Grown-up Rowdy has definite parts I like, but so did boy-next-door Rowdy.”
I saw him turn that over in his head for a minute, but I was well on my way to getting his belt unbuckled and his jeans out of my way, so if he had a response it was lost as I tried to get him as na**d as I was. He had on black boxer briefs and I took a second to appreciate how good he looked half stripped with the straining head of his c**k poking out of the waistband of his underwear. I wasn’t the only one with some hidden surprises under my clothes. I pushed his garments down to his knees and urged him to roll over on his back. He did and stacked his hands behind his head with his erection pointed up at the ceiling while I checked out everything he was working with down there.
I felt both of my eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “A magic cross?” I had been in the body modification business for a while, and had seen my share of dicks wearing adornment. I had to say this was a first, however. I was intrigued by his hardware and turned on by it at the same time.
Across the plump and ready head was a vertical apadravya piercing that left the top of the barbell visible both above and below the head. Running horizontally and just a little bit behind the apa was an ampallang piercing that, combined with the first, gave the appearance of a cross through the head of Rowdy’s cock. That meant there were four little shiny balls of delight resting on the surface of his already impressive erection, making any experience with him magical indeed.
“One of my closest friends is a body piercer. Not often do you find someone you trust enough to let them get close to your junk with a sharp and pointy object.”
I used my thumb to circle between the points and watched as the action made his eyes glaze over. His stomach muscles went taut and the thighs I was sitting on tensed and released as I brushed across each ball with my finger. He looked good naked. We looked good together naked. I liked the way our ink blended together into one giant mural. I pressed into him and moved my hand to grab the rest of his shaft in a firm grip. I also liked the way the nontattooed parts of us contrasted together. I was burnished and dark, he was golden and fair. I squeezed him around the base of his erection and used my other hand to pet the tight lines of his stomach. I’d never been with someone as pretty as Rowdy St. James and I wanted to enjoy every tactile sensation I could.
I let him go and snaked my hand between his legs just a little bit to rub his tightly drawn sac.
He barked out my name and jackknifed up at the caress. I guess playtime was over.
He shucked off his shoes and shimmied out of the rest of his clothes, a sight I wish I could just watch forever, and prowled toward me, his eyes glowing like a lighthouse signal trying to tell me he was where home was all along.
“Condom?”
I scooted over on the bed and fished around in the bedside table until I found one. I tore it open and motioned him closer. He took a step between my spread legs and dropped a kiss on the top of my head as I worked the latex over him and over all that metal. I gave him one last squeeze for good measure and he whispered into my hair, “One isn’t going to cut it.”