58. Chapter Fifty-Eight
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Jordan
The choking curse that escapes Mac is all the answer I need to know that I’m doing the right thing.
Because it shoots electricity straight to my cock. Tingles down the back of my neck. Elicits an itch in my fingers to touch, to roam over his body and feel the hard muscle beneath hair-dusted skin.
Mac. Mac. Mac.
The heady flavor coats my tongue as I tentatively swirl it around the head of him, slipping over the slit and tasting the precum leaking from him.
It clings to my tastebuds and my mouth fucking waters because it’s …
Savory .
Almost salty.
All Mac.
And enough to have my tongue lapping at the tip in search of more.
“ Fuckshit—”
I look up just in time—passed that fucking trail of tantalizing hair from his navel over his flat chest—to catch his neck arching back, his chest laboring with his breaths.
It has a need like I’ve never felt before pulsing through my veins and landing right in my groin.
A need to ignore the recognition tickling my mind about thinking with the wrong head.
And as I lick a long stripe down the underside of his cock and his hips punch up, I shut it off completely.
Settling between his legs, I spread him wide enough to accommodate my width and dance my tongue back down the length of his straining erection.
He’s hard … for me.
I trail down his sac, nip at the junction where his thigh meets his groin.
Lower.
Over his taint.
There’s no nightmare this time to justify my actions. But there is this burning need for connection settling deep inside. To be as close as possible.
To make him feel good .
Nothing else even registers as I splay him wide open and dive between his cheeks, teasing at first. Tasting. Testing the boundaries.
Tattooed fingers wrap up in the sheets, knuckles gone white, unintelligible sounds slipping from his lips.
It drives me to add pressure to his rim and a startled moan slips from my throat when he loosens enough to let me in.
“Ah, fuck,” Mac groans out, hands finding my hair and pushing.
For the briefest moment, I wonder if anyone has ever done this to him before. If another has been face first in my drummer’s ass.
Did they care about him or was it just to get off?
What if I was the first?
An uninvited growl rips from my throat, and I spear my tongue inside him, licking his hole until a sheen of sweat breaks out on his skin.
“J-Jordan,” he rasps out, all breathy roughness, and it shoots straight to my tight core.
He yanks on my hair, and I hiss at the sting in my scalp.
That … shoots straight to my balls.
“I’m gonna goddamn come if you don’t stop.”
My spine tingles.
I want that .
Except … I want it to happen while I’m inside him.
I want inside him.
Him.
Mac.
“Two?”
His nod is immediate.
Working in both my middle digits slowly, stretching him, I fight for the same space with my tongue.
“Curl your—”
He nearly shoots off the bed when I crook a finger.
“ Godfuckyes ,” he barks out and I find myself chuckling.
“Three?” I ask, swirling my tongue around the digits.
“Lube,” he pants and lets loose another sound that I could only describe as pleasured when I hit that spot again. “ Lube .”
Reluctantly, I pull back, withdrawing my fingers from his heat and chuckle again when he whines.
“Hurry,” he murmurs, wrapping those inked fingers around his shaft and languidly working them down the length.
I climb off the bed with a painfully stiff cock in search of his pants, shucking off my shirt as I go. As suspected, there’s a packet and a condom inside his pocket.
“How old is this?” I ask, dangling my find in his direction, but when I glance at him, he’s staring at my clearly bulged zipper.
“Fresh,” he nearly whispers back when I drop my pants and boxers, his fingers tightening around his length and stroking.
My steps back to the bed studder.
Why did he need to replace it?
“The other one was expired,” he adds as if hearing my thoughts out loud and I resume my climb onto the bed with an uncurling feeling in my chest.
Leaning over him, I tear open the pack and empty the contents on my fingers. My cock. His hole.
There’s not much, but it’s enough to aid the glide of three stretching fingers.
“ More ,” he pants, and it tingles.
How am I supposed to say no to that?
Knee-walking between his spread thighs, I dip low enough to run my tongue over that same leaking slit and hum at the rush of flavor.
But Mac doesn’t let me savor it. No. He’s grabbing my hips and wrapping his calves behind me to yank me closer.
“More.”
Growling, I notch my cock against his entrance and push my way inside his hot hole.
With no barrier between us, I feel every goddamn inch of his body taking me. Matched with his shuddering breath, and wispy moans.
It feels like a goddamn wet dream come to life.
And I’ve had a few of those since the last time I was inside him.
Except this time feels more urgent.
I ease out a fraction, then back in a little farther than the last stroke and watch raptly as Mac’s eyes roll back.
“Pillow.”
Blindly, he reaches around above his head until fingers meet fluffed cotton, and he flings it in my direction.
I oof when it smacks me in the face and lands on his leaking cock, but I don’t care that it’s getting messy already because it’s going under his ass as soon as I bottom out.
Another choked curse slips from his parted lips when I do, and that tingling spread from my neck down to my chest.
“Lift.”
Planting his heels, Mac lifts up enough for me to shove the pillow beneath his lower back, then drops back onto my cock at the perfect angle that has us both groaning.
“Shit, you were right,” I breathe out and cant my hips, reaching that spot that makes him gasp with shallow thrusts.
“Fuckfuckfuck.”
His gasps settle into the gaping space that’s been inside my chest until they are all I can think about. All I want to keep hearing.
This can’t be the last time.
The thought stalls my movements, flipping my insides, and I stare down at the drummer.
His eyes are closed and shrouded in dark smudges, bandana askew on his forehead, fingers lost in their grip of the sheets.
Pink nipples standing out amongst the colored ink, small and lickable.
That golden trail.
His length, hard enough to follow that line up his abdomen.
“Don’t stop,” he murmurs to the ceiling, the cords in his neck pulled tight.
My stomach flips.
“Look at me.”
There’s a slight shake to his head, blown pupils trained above us.
Growling, I drive forward, burying to the hilt and leaning over him.
“Look at me,” I force out and grind against him, that ass of his sitting right on my groin, his stiffness rubbing against my abs.
Eyes clashing to mine, glassy and blown, I see everything I feel screaming back at me in the almost green color. They soften for the briefest moment before rolling back.
His lips pop open. Hips meeting mine.
“I’m gonna—”
He tightens, his body clamping down, and I grab his chin to guide his sight back to mine.
And with our eyes locked, he comes, warmth bathing my stomach and chest as his lips let loose the harshest of guttural vocals.
It’s enough to set me off, his body milking mine with each deep stroke as I find my release inside him.
Love him back .
“Mac,” I croak out with shaking limbs, the aftershocks racking me so hard that my arms give in.
My chest crashes to his, the stickiness of his cum spreading between us.
And for a moment … we just breathe.
Long enough that my cock begins to soften and slide from him. Even then, I don’t want to move. But then Mac hisses and I lean back enough to see the glassiness of his eyes.
“Jordan … why are you here?”