Full Service : (Franklin U 2 Book 5)

Chapter 11

Isomehow manage to persuade Dr. Sinclair to take me back to his place. I don’t know how I did it, but I did. Seems the full moon is working its magic tonight. I just suggested it and he did an illegal U-turn and drove me right to his place.

“No funny business,” he says again.

I bite my bottom lip to keep my smile at bay. Right, no funny business. None at all.

Because being with him won’t be funny at all. No, it will be mind-blowing.

Hot as fuck.

I don’t know what it is about this guy, but I am totally obsessed. Showing up to his date was next-level stalker shit, but I did it anyways.

Didn’t help that Garrett encouraged it. He’s a terrible influence.

But it went better than expected. Not only did the date go horribly, but I got to touch his dick.

I want to touch it again.

Not that he lets me.

He sweeps inside his townhouse, introduces me to his fish, and then disappears into his room.

“Make yourself at home,” he says, and I honestly feel like I should strip out of my clothes and sit naked on the couch.

I contemplate it for a moment. A long moment. Would that be too manipulative?

Probably, but then again, like Dr. Sinclair said, my brain isn’t fully developed. If I make a bad decision, we can just blame it on my underdeveloped brain.

But before I can strip naked and lay myself on the couch like a fifties porn star, he reappears, his tie gone and the top two buttons of his shirt undone. Well, hell. Now I’m even hornier. I can see his chest hair.

I want to rub my face in it.

“What are you doing?” he asks as I stare at him, drooling. I force my gaze up to his eyes, and I make myself behave.

Well, mostly behave. I do whip my shirt off and watch as he sputters and chokes.

I do have a nice chest, if I do say so myself.

I constrict my abs, and he wheezes.

“Put your damn shirt back on, Mr. Winslow.”

Oh god, when he calls me that… It’s unhelpful and doesn’t make me want to put my shirt back on. No siree.

It makes me want to get even more naked.

“No thanks,” I say and then grin at him. “It’s getting hot in here.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” he says, even though his dick is hardening in his pants. I can see the outline through his pressed slacks. I want to rub my face against it again and feel it pump its release against me.

“I will throw you out on your ass, young man,” he says, his voice raspy.

I just stare at him and start to unbutton my pants. When he talks like a strict teacher, I get all hot and bothered.

“Keep going,” I say as I slide my zipper down.

Dr. Sinclair sputters, and his cheeks redden. “Keep your pants on.”

“Fuck off. Not when you’re going all dirty professor on me.”

He gapes at me as I kick my shoes and pants to the side, leaving me clad in only my boxers. I know I said we would keep this professional, but that ended the moment he stuck his face in my ass and licked my hole.

There’s no going back now.

“Put your clothes back on,” he says, even though his own fingers are unbuttoning his shirt and showing me that magnificent chest.

I grab on to my dick as he pulls it open, and I feel my balls draw up. I’ve never in my life been so obsessed with a guy. There have been a few flings here and there that did it for me, but nothing like this man.

Dr. Sinclair is in a league all his own.

“Fuck yes. Take it all off,” I say, sounding like the people who stand in the crowd while I’m stripping off my clothes. This is what this man has reduced me to.

The minute he sat in my chair and I watched him come untouched, just from a shake of my ass, I knew I was a goner.

“I’m not taking off a thing,” he says as he tosses his shirt aside. I take in the dark hair on his chest, the way his waist tapers down into narrow hips, the dip of his belly button. And then my eyes settle on a sleeve of tattoos lining his forearm.

Oh hell, why is that so hot? Of course he has secret tattoos under all that buttoned-up goodness.

I let out a low groan, and Dr. Sinclair reaches between his legs and cups his cock.

I want to sink to my knees and rub on him, mark him like some animal, but I stay where I am. I think if I approach, he’ll call the whole damn thing off.

“Please. Take it off. Take it off,” I beg as I reach my hand into my boxers and start to stroke my leaking length. Dr. Sinclair is watching me, his eyes nearly black, his cheeks bright red.

I want him on top of me. I want him to grind.

“I’ll be so good,” I say. “I’ll stay over here. Just show me. I want to see it all.”

He lets out a shaky breath but hesitates long enough to let me know that he’s thinking about it. And I know that I’ve hooked him when I hear his zipper slide down and watch as his thumbs hook into his waistband of his pants and slowly peel them off.

“Fine. Just this once and then never again.”

“Fuck yes,” I murmur.

“You stay over there. No touching.”

“I promise,” I say as I eagerly shuck my boxers, kicking them onto an end table.

Dr. Sinclair eyes the fabric as it dangles but makes no move to extricate it. Instead, he just peels his underwear off and kicks them to the side, showing me everything.

And all of it is so damn good.

I know he’s older than me, but his body is so fucking hot. His cock is too. And don’t get me started on those balls. They hang there between his legs, ripe and ready for my mouth.

Not that I’ll go over there and suck on them.

I’ll behave. I’ll so behave.

I grip my dick and give it a solid pump, watching as Dr. Sinclair does the same thing, his movements in time with my own.

“Fuck yes. Squeeze harder,” I say and watch as Dr. Sinclair’s knuckles turn white. He’s strangling his dick. So I do the same. It’s only fair.

“You’re so hot. So hot,” I whisper, and Dr. Sinclair’s nostrils flare.

“Stop lying.”

“I’m not,” I whine as I arch my hips up. “You’re so hot. I want to touch you. I want to kiss you again.”

Dr. Sinclair groans and shakes his head, his feet shuffling a little closer to me. He’s now only half a room away.

“Come here. Comehere. Break the rules. Break them with me,” I taunt as my fist shuttles up and down my shaft.

I can see his resolution breaking, can see him warring with himself. I want him to push me down on the sofa, spread my legs, and take me. But before he can, before he even moves, I hear a splash behind me and I watch as his fish throws itself out of its tank.

I gasp and so does Dr. Sinclair. Then he’s rushing past me, scooping up the flapping fish and placing it back in the water.

“She tried to kill herself!” he says, his eyes wide. “She’s never done that before.”

“Probably didn’t want to see us jacking off.”

“Jesus, why did she do that? Is she unhappy? I just cleaned her tank last week!”

I glance over at him, our naked bodies crouched down on the floor, his eyes round with worry.

“I honestly don’t know. That was weird as fuck, but look, she’s happy now. She’s under that coral. Is she smiling?”

Dr. Sinclair glances up and then sighs. “Do you really think she was just mortified by what she saw? Usually, I go into my bedroom and use my toys…”

His words trail off as I stare at him, my dick bobbing between my legs.

“Toys?” I ask lowly.

He swallows, gulping loudly.

“Perhaps.”

“Show me,” I rasp, unable to control myself. I need to see this or I may die.

“Absolutely not,” he says, even though he stands, placing his cock right near my mouth.

I should open up wide and swallow him. But I behave like I said I would. I watch as he turns on his heel, and I stand on wobbly legs as I follow him down the small hallway to his room.

“I need to wash my hands. Fish juice doesn’t belong on my dick.”

I couldn’t care less about that. I’d take his fish dicks any day.

When he’s done, we stand there in the dark, both of our chests heaving, our cocks hard and leaking. I won’t make the first move, but I sure as hell can prod.

“Come on. Show me,” I tell him, and he lets out a small whimper, a small assent. He wants this just as much as me.

He doth protest too much.

“I have quite a few to choose from.”

I squeeze my dick in excitement. “Show me all of them.”

Dr. Sinclair seems unsure, almost like he wants to say no, but then he moves toward the bedstand and pulls open a drawer.

And I see it. I see it all.

So many toys, so many possibilities.

“This doesn’t mean that I’m going to use them while you watch.”

“How about I use them on you while you watch,” I say, and Dr. Sinclair rolls his eyes, even though I can see the flush on his cheeks.

He likes that idea.

A lot.

“Absolutely not,” he says, as he lies down on the bed, his legs spread, his hand grabbing the lube.

I move toward him, picking out a dildo from the drawer. A big one. Probably as big as me. I want to watch as it slides inside of him, want to imagine that it’s me who’s doing the fucking.

“This is breaking all sorts of rules,” he says as he squirts some lube onto his fingers and reaches between his legs. “We absolutely must stop.”

I kneel on the bed, watching as his fingers push inside of him, opening himself for me.

“Fuck yes,” I say as I stroke my dick. This is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.

I want more. I want to see it all.

“You should turn around and not watch,” he says as he pushes another finger inside of himself.

I huff a small laugh, his little protestations won’t work on me. I get why he’s saying them, plausible deniability, but I swear I wouldn’t turn my back on this if it could save my life.

No, I’d die trying to see him stuff himself full.

And I’d die a happy man.

“Mr. Winslow,” he grunts and then arches his hips up, his cock spurting precum from the tip. I watch it leak, wetting my lips. I want to fall on it, want to suck him into the back of my throat, want to hear him come again.

“Everly, call me Everly, Dr. Sinclair,” I say and I watch as his eyes settle on me, three fingers up his ass, the other squeezing his cock.

“Then you have to call me Silas.”

I nod, loving the sound of that. What a sexy name. “Okay then, Silas, show me what you got.”

I set the dildo down next to him and he picks it up. It’s long and thick, perfect for fucking. And he must think so too because a second later, his fingers have slipped from his hole and the tip of the silicone cock is entering it.

He doesn’t move slow, doesn’t inch it inside. No, he shoves it up there with a gasp, my name leaving his lips a moment later.

Fuck, hearing him moan that, it’s scorching my skin, my self-control already teetering on the edge.

If he does that again, I’ll fall on him and fuck him myself.

Silas pushes the dildo further into him, until just the base is visible and he swivels it, making low, tortured gasps as he does it. It’s too hot, too fucking sexy.

I can’t keep myself under control. I’m a stretched elastic, close to snapping.

“Everly,” he says as he pulls it out and then shoves it back in. “Everly.”

“Fuck, fuck,” I pant and then I’m on him, my mouth covering his cock and sucking it to the back of my throat. Silas cries out, his back arching off the bed as I grab the dildo and rock it into his needy hole.

Two sucks in and he explodes, his eyes screwed shut, his mouth open in a scream.

I swallow it all, tasting him on my lips. And when he finally comes down from the high of his orgasm, I pull out the dildo and pump my dick with my fist, splashing my release across his hole, his balls, and his cock.

Silas watches the entire thing, his eyes stormy and dark.

And then I fall forward, pressing myself against him. I don’t even care that my mess is smearing against our skin. All I want to do is kiss him. Again.

My lips trail across his scruffy jaw and when they land on his lips, he sighs, his fingers curling into my hair and tugging.

Our tongues tangle, our mouths slanted over each other. It’s languid and lazy, and when we finally pull apart, my lips feel swollen.

“That was real nice,” I say with a small smile, watching as Silas’s eyelids flutter open.

“That’s one word for it. I’d probably go with shocking.”

“Shocking that you couldn’t turn me down?” I tease, and Silas rolls his eyes.

“I did turn you down, over and over, but you were relentless. I’m entirely blameless.”

I scoot a little closer to him, my hands trailing across his skin, feeling my cum smear into it.

“I think you caved quite easily,” I tell him. “Really easily, if I remember correctly.”

He scoffs and then sits up, his tattooed arm moving up to his chest and scratching. I want to know what those tattoos represent, what they mean, but before I can ask about them, he stands up.

“This was a mistake,” he grumbles, and I scramble after him, following him into the en suite bathroom.

“I mean, you’re using that word far too liberally.”

He glowers at me in the mirror and then softens into me when my hands slide across his stomach.

“I’m going to bring you home, like I should have after dinner.”

“But we haven’t technically had dinner. And I’m hungry.”

It’s the truth. I could eat. His cum only filled me up a little bit. Although, I could go for round two. And three. I could suck his dick all night long.

Not that he plans to let me.

His hands peel mine off his chest and he steps away from me, looking dour.

“We can pick something up before I drop you off.”

I sigh, watching as he grabs a washcloth and hands it to me.

“You want to clean up?”

I don’t want to. I want to walk around all night with evidence of this on my skin, but I do as he says because he looks so grumpy about it. I would be too if I turned down the possibility of sex all night long. Because let me tell you, I’m willing and ready.

But I get why he’s putting up a fight. This is his job on the line, and he’s risking a lot by even entertaining this. Maybe I should quit, but then I think of my bills, of my sunken ceiling caving in precariously after the rainstorm and sigh.

I really can’t afford to live anywhere else at the moment.

And my landlord is probably a criminal. There’s no way any of the issues we’ve brought to him will get fixed.

“Alright, I’m ready,” I say when I pull my pants back on.

I’m rebelling slightly, putting up a bit of a stink. I don’t put my shirt on. I refuse. And I leave my pants unzipped and unbuttoned, so Silas is forced to look at me.

“Put on your fucking clothes,” he grumbles, and I shake my head.

“I don’t feel like it.”

I grin smugly and his eyes narrow. He knows what I’m trying to do. I won’t get away with this.

“At least zip up your pants.”

“No thanks. My dick is getting hard again. I want to let it have some breathing room.”

His eye twitches, and I feel my lips turn up.

“Really, I can’t suffocate it or else it gets claustrophobic.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose, and if it were anyone else, I’d push into him, press my lips to his skin, and make him forget all his annoyance. But this is different. He is different. Not only is he older than me, more mature, but he’s also technically my boss. Which puts a damper on things, a real dip in the road.

“I’ll bring you home, claustrophobic dick and all,” he says and then tosses me a sweatshirt from the closet nearest the door. It lands on my chest, and I can’t help but pull it toward my nose and inhale.

Fuck, it smells like him.

This is the only reason I’m putting it on. I want to wear him.

There’s a very good chance that I’ll forget to give this back to him.

More like a one hundred percent chance.

“This way,” he says as he leads me to his car.

I want to refuse, to chain myself to his door, but feel like that might be toeing the line of insane. And while I don’t mind a little light craziness when pursuing someone, I feel like that would just be full-on creepy.

And I want to come off as sexy. Not a serial killer.

I slide into his car and shut the door, pulling the sweatshirt up slightly and sniffing the fabric.

“Put your address in here,” he says, his voice curt. He points to his phone, and I press my address into it.

“You want me to snap you a dick pic, just in case you want it later?”

He sputters slightly, his cheeks flushed red.

“Fuck no. I do not want that.”

“You sure?” I tease.

He stares at me and wets his lips.

“I’ll be right back,” he says and then gets out of the car, leaving me alone with his phone.

I’m almost positive he left so I could get in some nice shots of my dick.

So I do. I take as many as I can before he returns. And when he does, I hand the phone over, trying to look innocent, but looking more like an eager dog.

Woof. Woof.

“Why are you breathing like that?” he asks, his eyebrows meeting. “You didn’t do something naughty, did you?”

Oh yes, I was very, very bad, but I just shrug like the innocent man I’m not.

I hope he looks at those pictures as soon as he gets home. I want to know that my cock is the last thing he sees before he goes to sleep. I want him to count my cocks like sheep.

“Alright, well, I’ll have to check very thoroughly later, to make sure nothing bad is on here.”

I turn my gaze to the window and smile.

Oh, there are some very naughty things on there, but I won’t say a word about it and neither will he. I hope he keeps them forever. I hope that he looks at them ten years from now and remembers me.

For some reason that thought bothers me more than it should, but I shake it off. Silas is driving me home. This thing between us, these shenanigans, are nothing serious. It’s just a little messing around with the hottie professor.

Nothing more.

I stare at the wet streets as he drives me across town, the tires splashing through puddles as we go. Our places aren’t far from one another, but they’re not close enough to walk. Shame. If I was close enough to walk to his place, I’d be in his bushes, peering through the window like the creeper I’ve become.

I’d fog up the glass, my nose pressed right against the cool panes as I rub one out.

Never thought another person would reduce me to this, but here I am.

Dr. Sinclair does it for me. Big time.

They should write a romance novel about us.

When he finally pulls up to my crumbling place, even in the dark I’m a little embarrassed by my living conditions. But then I see one of my roommates, Murphy, out on the curb, a box in his beefy hands.

I pause a moment before rolling my window down. “Yo, Murph, what’s that?”

“Ah, fuck man, there you are. Been trying to get a hold of you. The roof caved in on me right when I was taking a shit! It’s a mess in there, a real biohazard.”

I stare at him, feeling myself heat in embarrassment. I can’t believe it finally happened. It was sagging after those rainstorms we had, like a pregnant woman about to give birth, but I really tried not to think about it.

I really tried to stay optimistic.

I was manifesting only good things as the plaster strained under the force of the water.

“Why in God’s name is your roof caving in?” Silas asks gruffly, and I turn toward him, feeling my cheeks heat.

“I’m pretty sure our landlord is a slumlord and he’s been neglecting the place for a while. The ceiling’s been sagging since we moved in and the water finally broke it.”

“Unacceptable,” he grumbles.

“Yeah, well, it’s all I can afford.” I run my hand through my hair and then sigh. There’s nothing to be done about it now. Just onward and upward, my best foot forward. Like always. “Anyways. Thanks for the ride.”

I step out, meeting Murphy where he’s standing. “So, like, how bad is it really? Can we stay there still?”

“Fuck no. Everything is wet and the landlord said we can’t move back in, not until it’s fixed.”

“Well, what the hell are we supposed to do then?”

“Um, well, I’m going to go stay with my girlfriend, and Meena is going to live in a tent.”

“What the hell?” I ask with a laugh. “A tent?”

“Yeah, apparently it’s real nice. I could have her shoot you a link if you want to look at that as an option.”

“Yeah, please do,” I joke, just as I hear a rumble from behind me.

Silas.

“You’re not living in a goddamn tent,” he grunts and then comes to stand near me. His hand brushes my own and that small touch sends tendrils of pleasure shooting up my arm.

“Do you have a better idea?” I ask him. “I don’t have any other options.”

Silas purses his lips, his hand fiddling with the top button of his shirt.

“You do. Of course you do.”

I arch an eyebrow. “Care to share with the class because I’m at a loss.”

“Your dad.”

“No, he lives in a trailer. Travels for work. It’s not an option.”

Silas eyes me, his eyebrows meeting.

“Fine. With me. You can stay with me.”

A snort slips out of my nose. I sound like a pig in heat.

“I can’t stay with you,” I say and then lower my voice. “Do you know how tempting that would be?” I swear, he must have no idea. I’d be humping him all fucking day long. My dick would be chafed from how much I’d be jacking it.

His eye twitches and then he clears his throat. “Yes, well, we can figure that out later. There’s no way you’re sleeping in a tent. Good fuck.”

“Yes, good fuck,” I murmur. A good fuck with him would be very nice.

Silas sighs and then motions to the apartment building. “Can you at least go in and grab your things?”

I shout over to Murph, asking him that question, and he nods.

“Yeah, you can go in. Just be careful. May end up going through the floor.”

“You are not going in there,” Silas says behind me, but I can’t just leave my shit in the apartment. I have my coursework in there.

“Yeah, well, I have to.”

He grumbles and follows me, nearly clipping my heels as we go. I kind of like that he’s following me. Normally, anyone doing this would put me off, but for some reason, with grumpy Dr. Sinclair it really gets me going. I love it.

We make it to the elevator, and I press the button. I hear a very disheartening clang inside the elevator shaft, and then Silas huffs behind me.

“We are not taking that death box. Where are the stairs?”

“Listen, old man, I don’t think your knees can handle those.”

I grin at him and he takes a step forward, making my cock twitch in my pants. Oh, he looks so delicious right now.

“I’ll show you just how good my knees are when we get back home.”

Welp, there goes my twitching cock right up to full-mast. It can sail the ocean blue at this point.

“Please do,” I say as I lead him toward the stairs. “I feel like I really need you to prove this hypothesis.”

“I’ll prove it alright,” he tells me as I start to jog up the stairs. He keeps up with me, even if I do hear his knees cracking every once in a while. Just means they’re well used.

Hopefully they are even more so when I get back to his place.

I can’t believe I’m even entertaining this. That he is. For fuck’s sake, this is going to end terribly, but I’m too enamored to turn him down.

Just think of all the things we could do together. I could wander around naked and tempt him to take his clothes off. I could cockwarm him on the sofa while we watch TV.

Well, maybe not. The fish might not like that.

Better to cockwarm him in bed after eating his ass.

The thought makes me take the stairs two at a time, and by the time we make it to my fifth-floor apartment, Silas is hunched over, his hands on his thighs.

“You okay there?” I ask, and he stares up at me. A piece of his hair flops onto his forehead and his lips purse. He looks like he’s about to give me a kiss.

I like that look a little too much.

“I’m perfectly fine. Just haven’t walked up any stairs recently.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes, that’s so. Not this many anyways. I didn’t realize you lived on the top floor.”

“Yep, the one and only. Hence the caved-in ceiling. And the many other things that have gone wrong with this place.”

Dr. Sinclair straightens and he looks very much like a Silas at the moment, a little disheveled and sweaty. Kind of like when he was ramming that dildo up his ass earlier.

I adjust my hard cock and his eyes swivel down to it. He wets his lips. Hungry.

He wants to show me just how well those knees work right at this very moment.

But he seems to have other plans. He runs a hand through his hair and arches a very meticulous eyebrow. Is that a thing? Can eyebrows be meticulous?

I’ll have to research this, for science.

“What other issues have you been having in this hell hole?” he asks, his eyes turning toward the peeling paint on the walls.

“Uh, you know, the usual. Caved-in ceiling, wet floors, leaky faucets, the smell of rotting corpse.”

His eyes widen. “None of that is usual, Everly. I think this place should be burned to the ground. Rotting corpse?”

“Well, who knows? There could be someone buried between the walls.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Everly. Absolutely not.”

He grabs on to my hand and leads me forward. Not that he knows where he’s going. But it sure is damn cute.

“Over here,” I say, as I lead him to a door with caution tape strewn on it.

“Seems just like a crime scene,” he grumbles and then pushes his way in. The door swings open easily, and I swear Silas is going to have a stroke right here and now.

“Oh yeah, and the lock doesn’t work.”

He sighs and makes his way inside, his feet squishing on the floor.

It’s pretty bad, worse than I imagined. There is insulation on the ground and part of the ceiling just lying there. The entire space smells like mold, and I wonder what my room looks like.

We trudge through the mess, and I manage a small squeak when I see the state of my room I shared with Murphy. It’s terrible. Our beds are wrecked, wet the entire way through, there’s no ceiling, and I’m pretty sure that someone rummaged through my dresser drawer. The cash I had stashed there is completely gone.

I rub at my tired eyes, and for the first time since arriving, I realize how bad this really is.

This is so damn bad.

“Get what you can, Everly,” Silas says softly, his hand moving to my lower back and pushing me forward gently. “And then let me take you home.”

I do as he says, gathering some of my school books and a few clothes that aren’t completely useless. And then I follow Silas out, my heart sinking slightly.

I know that I joked about it before, but I really don’t know what I’m going to do. I got this apartment on a whim, a last-minute Hail Mary. Murphy was a little stinky and Meena was loud, but the rent was cheap, and despite our landlord most likely stuffing dead bodies in the wall, it was a place to lay my head at night.

And now I have to figure out what to do. Because even though Silas said I could stay with him, I can’t do it forever.

I need to get back on my own two feet alone.

“I can stay with you for a little while,” I tell him when he pulls back up into his garage. He turns the car off and then faces me, his eyebrows drawn down.

“You can stay as long as you need.”

“Thank you, Dr. Sinclair…Silas, but honestly this could get you into trouble, right?”

“What could get me into trouble is me licking your asshole in my office. You staying with me can just be…kept between us.”

I manage a small, wobbly smile.

Why is he being so nice to me? I mean, yeah, he wants to fuck me, but that doesn’t mean he needs to offer his spare room to me. He’s going above and beyond, and I don’t quite understand it.

“Are you sure? I can get a motel…”

“Forget it. Get your ass out of the car and we’ll do a load of laundry. I can smell the dirty roof water on your clothes and it’s not appealing.”

He leads me inside, and I throw my clothes into the washer before sinking down onto the couch and setting my books out on the coffee table to dry.

“At least I had my laptop on me,” I say, more to myself than anything.

“Yes, that’s a good thing. That would be harder to replace. Everything else can be bought.”

He sinks down next to me and our legs brush.

To be honest, right in this moment, besides wanting to laugh at the absurdity of it all, I also kind of want to cry into his shoulder. I want him to hold me close and let me fall asleep in his arms.

“What a fucking day,” he murmurs as his fingers flex into a fist. It sits on his thigh and I want it to reach out and hold on to me, like he did back at my apartment.

But it doesn’t move, just twitches on his leg.

I press the palm of my hand into my eye and let out a puff of air. “I mean, you did have a pretty hot date.”

He turns to look at me. “And so did you. Although, they did seem more interested in each other.”

I huff a laugh. “That they did. In fact, as we left, I think LoveJoy was sitting on Garrett’s lap.”

“Yeah, he probably tied him down with all those ribbons.” A very unseemly snort escapes Silas’s nose, and I can’t help but grin.

Fuck, he’s funny in a weird, unhinged way. I like it. I like it a lot.

“Yeah, I can see Garrett liking all that. He’s really into shiny things.”

Silas lets out another small laugh and then sighs. “Hell,” he mutters as his hand unfurls from his thigh and slides across my shoulders.

He pulls me into him, and I bury my face in his chest, inhaling the scent of him. Sex and cum and something inherently Silas. He’s so fucking hot.

“God, you must be exhausted. What a long fucking day,” he murmurs into my hair.

I sigh and lay on him a little further. He’s so warm and comforting, and honestly, I could use a long-drawn-out hug.

“Let’s shower and get into bed,” he tells me.

I should get up because a naked, wet Silas is the thing of dreams, but I honestly don’t want to move from my place on top of him. I wiggle against him, bringing both our bodies down against the couch cushions and bury my face into his neck.

“Don’t wanna move,” I murmur.

His hands slide up my back and into my hair, holding me against him.

And even though my cock’s been hard and his is growing against my leg, at this point in time, I have no desire to act on it. I just want to be with Silas, just let him comfort me.

It’s really been a shit show, and I need someone to help me mop up the mess.

“You’re very muscly and heavy,” he grunts as I continue to lie on top of him.

I smile against his skin. “Yeah, but you love all my muscles.”

“Hm,” he replies. “Perhaps.”

“You do, admit it.”

He huffs again, and I reach under his armpit and tickle him, causing him to gasp and writhe beneath me.

“You better fucking not,” he hisses, but it only makes me want to do it more.

I dig my fingers into his pit and he bucks beneath me, kind of like a rodeo rider. I could get on that. Would be nicer if I was sitting on his dick. Although, to be fair, it’s right there, grinding up against me. Tickling him hasn’t made it go down. In fact, it only seems to grow harder.

“Your dick likes this and you do too,” I laugh as he tries to get me off of him. It doesn’t work. I hold on like the pro I am.

A snort escapes him and then a giggle, and by the time I roll off him, he has tears streaming down his cheeks.

“I’m going to kill you,” he wheezes, swiping at his eyes.

“As long as you murder me with your dick, we’ll be just fine.”

He rolls his eyes and then sits up, trying to compose himself, but I wrecked him. He looks positively delicious.

My eyes are telling him what I’m thinking because he purses his lips and shakes his head. “Absolutely not. We are keeping this professional, starting now.”

I glance down at my dick and sigh.

“Sorry, buddy,” I tell it, and Silas chuckles lowly.

“Yes, sorry is right. If you’re going to stay here, it needs to be.”

“Right, totally professional,” I say and then our eyes clash and I crawl toward him, sitting right between his legs. I gaze up at him and see his pupils dilate.

“How about we start that tomorrow instead? This will just be our little secret.”

When he doesn’t respond right away, I continue, “I mean, we already did shit today, might as well keep it going.”

His brow furrows. He’s thinking about it, really considering my proposition.

“I suppose you do make a very good point.”

My tongue sneaks out and wets my lips. “Yeah, I mean, we already broke the rules. We can start again tomorrow.” Or the next day, I think.

“Fine, but none of this on campus.”

I mean, no promises, but if it gets me closer to his dick again, then fuck yes.

“What do you want to do?” I ask as I reach out and drag my hands up those thighs. They flex under my touch, and I feel a tremor move through him. Hell yes, he wants this. He’s just as excited as me.

“I think it’s time I show off how well my knees work.”

I nearly pass out when Silas drops to his knees beside me, his hair still disheveled, his shirt unbuttoned. I want him completely naked. Well, that’s not entirely true. I could do with a rumpled professor between my legs. I love it more than I should. Makes me think of that night he sat in that chair and came.

My dream come true.

“You can’t be serious,” I say, my voice raspy and shaking slightly. “God, you’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?”

“Perhaps. Perhaps it’s your turn to beg.”

My dick perks up at that and my eyes nearly cross when he reaches between us and brazenly grabs on to my cock. His fingers squeeze me roughly, and I arch my hips up, wanting more friction. I want more. Need it.

“On the couch, pants off.”

I nearly trip, trying to do what he says, and when I’m finally bare from the waist down, Silas crawls closer to me, shuffling right between my legs and pulling my balls out with his hand. Just that touch has me groaning loudly. I’m going to bring the house down at this rate. The neighbors will call the cops and have me arrested. But what did Silas expect when he asked me to stay with him?

A horny man in his early twenties?

Jesus, this was just asking for trouble.

If he keeps with cutting this off tomorrow, my dick is going to fall off. I won’t survive it.

“Sit on your hands,” he tells me gruffly, and I blink down at him, unsure if I heard him right.

“Yeah, you heard me. Hands under that sexy ass of yours. And no coming until I say so.”

“But your mouth is going to be busy.”

“Oh, trust me. I’ll manage.”

I bet he will. He’s a professional.

I do as he says, pressing my hands under my thighs and watching as he drags his nose up my thigh and right to the crease of my groin. I let out a shaky breath as his tongue snakes across the base of me. My cock leaks profusely, precum coating my head as he licks his way to my tip. He laps me up, tasting my essence. I want to unload into his mouth, right down his throat.

I want to watch him gag on me, swallow me whole.

I bite my lip in anticipation of what’s to come. But then something occurs to me and I glance over at the fish tank.

“Cover the fish tank first,” I say, and Silas glances up at me, clearly confused. “I don’t want her to jump out of her tank in protest.”

He nods once, standing and tossing a blanket over it, effectively covering the entire thing.

“Privacy, at last,” he says with a grin and then slides between my legs once more. “Are you ready, Mr. Winslow?”

The way he says my name makes my dick jump.

“Fuck yes.”

And he doesn’t disappoint. Seconds later, his eyes lock on to mine as he sucks the head of my cock between his lips. They stretch around my tip, and I arch up into him, wanting him to take more of me.

But he doesn’t give me what I want. Instead, he teases me with his tongue, sliding it through my slit, making me moan and grunt, nearly begging for more.

It’s when I finally cave and whisper “please” that he takes more of me into him, an inch, just a fucking inch. So I just chant that word over and over, pleading with him.

He finally takes pity on me and swallows me whole, his nose pressed into my neatly trimmed pubic hairs. He holds me there, his throat constricting around my hard length, making my eyes cross, making my breath come out in pained whimpers.

My fingers curl under my legs, and I try like hell to keep them off his head. He wants to control this, which is hot as fuck, and I can tell he’s getting off on edging me. He brings me right to the brink over and over until I’m a sweating, sobbing mess.

“Silas,” I moan, my eyes screwed shut, my abdomen flexing tightly, trying to stave off my orgasm. The flat of his tongue slides along my cockhead as he sucks on my tip like a lollipop.

“Hm?” he hums, and I blink my eyes open. The room swims, the only thing constant is him, kneeling before me. His lips pink and puffy, his cheeks flushed red.

“Are you trying to give me a heart attack?” I rasp.

His eyes sparkle and he sits up, leaving my spit-covered dick to nearly weep.

“No,” he says as he grabs me behind my knees and tugs me forward, my ass nearly off the couch now. I’m slouched down, my hands slipping behind my back.

“Better,” he says, wetting his lips and then pushing my knees up against my chest, exposing me fully.

Fuck yes, I think as he pushes my balls up and swipes the tip of his tongue across my hole. He moans as he does it, telling me how much he enjoys eating ass. It’s a rare find, not many people would want to do this.

Not many people have done this to me, which makes Silas a fucking gem.

He slides his tongue around my rim, pushing in gently and making me arch my hips up, wanting to give him better access. He’s really fucking good at this, his mouth making me sloppy and wet.

“More. Please,” I moan, but of course he makes me wait, rimming me gently until I’m panting and whining. It’s only when I’m nearly crying in frustration that he pushes his tongue all the way inside of me.

I cry out, my body shaking with need. And he continues his assault, making me a writhing, moaning mess, my cock leaking profusely, precum dripping down the sides, needing to come and yet unable to touch myself to do so.

If only I could come untouched like Silas.

Fuck, has he come already?

If he has, that is so hot.

His tongue suddenly leaves me, my hole open and gaping, and then his finger slides inside of me, crooking and finding my prostate. I cry out again, my heart thumping wildly in my chest.

“Not yet, Mr. Winslow,” he grumbles as he takes my cock back into his mouth, sucking up all the precum with one swallow and making me bow up off the couch.

I’m chanting nonsense now, just jumbled words as he continues to work my prostate with his fingers and my cock with his mouth.

He really is good on his knees.

When he slides two fingers inside of me, my hole constricts, and I let out a pained moan. Not from being stretched open, but from being unable to find my release.

But Silas doesn’t give in, he just continues the assault until I’m nearly blacking out from the pleasure of it.

“You can come now,” he finally says, and I blink my eyes open as he swallows me down once more, his hand bobbing furiously on the base of my cock, his fingers working in and out of me, brushing blissfully against my pleasure spot.

I come with a shout, my vision whiting out as ropes of cum shoot into his mouth and down his throat. And he doesn’t stop sucking until I’m wrung dry. It’s only then that he pulls his fingers from me and his mouth off my dick. He crawls up on the couch, straddles me, pulls his own cock out, and slides it between my open lips.

I take him, eagerly, letting him use my mouth as a fuck toy until he too is spilling his seed onto my tongue.

When it’s over, he slouches over me, his body shaking, his cock softening in my mouth. I keep him inside of me as long as he lets me, and when he finally slips from my opening, he falls to my side and presses a hand to his eyes.

He’s wrecked, disheveled. The same as me.

“Dr. Sinclair,” I rasp and lean over, pressing my body against his. I’m half-clothed and his pants are around his thighs, but neither of us makes a move to fix ourselves up. We just hold on to each other while we come down from the high of it.

“Mr. Winslow,” he replies after a deep inhale. “We have a few more hours.”

I nod as I kiss my way up his neck and nibble on his ear.

“I just need like two minutes to get hard again.”

He chuckles. “I need longer than that. I’m old.”

“You are not. At least your knees aren’t. They held up really well.”

“I was motivated,” he says with a laugh.

I burrow in further, realizing that my weight may be suffocating, but he doesn’t stop me, just holds me a little tighter.

Minutes later he shifts beneath me, and I feel the whisper of his voice against my skin. “As well as my knees held up, my back might not. Want to move this to the bedroom?”

Fuck yes, I do. I nearly launch upright, pulling up my pants and striding toward his bedroom.

“We have two hours until midnight,” I tell him and then throw myself on the bed and kick my pants off. “We can get at least two more orgasms in by then.”

Silas follows me down.

“I think you’re a little confused,” he says as his lips meet mine. “I’m thinking at least ten.”