Chapter 8
RYAN
I’ve been stretched out on the bed, naked, my dick throbbing against my stomach, for what feels like an eternity. Every creak in the walkway, every car door slamming in the lot, has my head whipping toward the door.
It’s the tackiest room I’ve ever seen. Floral bedspread, a stained orange carpet, a print of two dolphins jumping out of the ocean hanging crooked above the bed.
Even though it’s a non-smoking room, it smells an awful lot like cigarettes.
On the nightstand, right next to a Bible, sits the bottle of lube and the box of extra-large condoms that I bought.
My heart is in my throat. What if he’s not coming? What if this was just a game to him? A way to get back at me for being so shameless? A lesson in humiliation?
I have no business being this hung up on a guy I just met, especially one who’s made it clear he’s straight.
But I am. That look he gave me in the truck, the growl in his voice, the feel of his hand around my throat…
It’s everything I’ve ever wanted. A man who isn’t afraid to be rough with me, but would never actually hurt me.
This has an expiration date. A few hours, maybe a night if I’m lucky. Then he’s gone, and I become a story he never tells anyone. But right now, I don’t give a fuck. I want him. I want every last drop of what he’s offering. And when he’s done with me, I’ll pick up the pieces. Like always.
The door creaks open.
Every muscle in my body tightens. I prop myself up on my elbows.
There he is. A silhouette against the afternoon light.
For a long moment, Dominic just stands there, filling the doorframe.
Then he steps inside and kicks the door shut, the click of the latch like a gunshot in the quiet room.
His gaze drags over me, from my face down to my chest to the hard-on I’ve been sporting since the ride. He doesn’t say a word.
My cock gives an eager twitch against my stomach. I can’t help it. Just the sight of him, all that contained power, is enough to make me squirm.
He walks to the foot of the bed, slow, eyes locked on mine. His chest rises and falls under his tight navy T-shirt, the worn jeans hugging the powerful muscles in his thighs. Lying here naked while he’s still fully clothed is almost as good as being touched.
“Thought you might’ve changed your mind,” I say. “Could’ve read that Bible cover to cover in the time you made me wait.”
His jaw tightens. “Did I tell you to speak?”
Oh, fuck. He’s really doing this.
I shake my head.
Dominic circles the bed, trailing a hand over the flowery comforter. When his fingers brush my ankle, I flinch. He grins. “Touch-starved, aren’t you?”
I swallow. “Yeah.”
“Is that why you offered your mouth to a stranger in a filthy bathroom? Desperate for attention?”
“Only for your attention,” I say. “The second I saw you, I wanted to be on my knees.”
A flash of pride crosses his face. He likes that. He likes that I chose him, specifically, to worship. “And you think you deserve my attention?”
“Probably not.”
The corner of his mouth twitches. “Honest. I like that.”
“I’ve been nothing but.”
He looks at me, and just for a beat, his eyes go soft.
Tender, almost. It’s a fleeting look, gone as quickly as it came, but it hits me right in the chest. Before I can process it, he reaches down, pulls off one boot, and drops it on the carpet.
Then the other. Two heavy thuds. He peels off his socks, then plants a bare foot on the edge of the bed. It has to be a size fourteen, at least.
A nod toward his foot. “You said you’d do anything. Prove it.”
He must think telling me to kiss his feet is the ultimate degradation.
And for a lot of guys, it would be. But not me.
I love nothing more than a guy’s foot in my face.
Especially one as perfect as his. High arch, a smattering of dark hair on the toes, clean, trimmed nails.
I push myself up, crawl over to the end of the bed, and take that big foot in my hands.
I press my lips against the top of it, then drag my tongue along the arch.
Tasting every mile he’s driven. Warm, salty skin, the smell of sweat and leather.
I start with the smallest toe, sucking it into my mouth, then the next, working my way across until I reach the big one.
I swirl my tongue around it the way I worked his cock.
Then I take that big toe into my mouth, looking up at him as I suck it.
“Fuck,” he breathes. “You’ll really do anything, won’t you?”
I release his toe with a wet pop. “Told you. Anything.”
He switches feet, and I worship the other one too.
Tongue between his toes, lips along the soft sole, nose pressed into the arch, breathing him in.
I wonder if anyone has ever done this for him before, if he has any idea how fucking hot he is from this angle.
How powerful he looks standing over me, fully clothed, watching me service him.
“These feet have been sweating in boots all day, and you’re licking them like they’re covered in honey,” he mutters.
“They could be covered in mud, and I’d still want my mouth on them,” I say between licks.
He yanks his foot back. “That’s enough. On your back.”
I scramble to obey. My cock is a rigid bar against my stomach, weeping all over my abs. I haven’t even been touched yet, and I’m already close to coming for the second time today. This man is going to be the death of me.
Dominic stares down at me with those caramel eyes, burning.
Then he grabs the hem of his shirt and pulls it over his head in one motion.
And there he is. Even better than I imagined.
A smattering of dark hair across a broad chest, a hard stomach, a trail that disappears into the waistband of his jeans.
Biceps that flex as he tosses the shirt aside.
“You’re so fucking hot,” I whisper. “Jesus Christ.”
“Yeah?” He pops the button on his jeans, then slowly drags the zipper down. “You want this, Ryan?”
“More than anything.” My hands are fisting in the cheap comforter. I’m trying so hard to be good, to wait for my orders. But it’s taking everything I have not to reach out and touch him.
He shoves his jeans and boxer briefs down in one push. His cock springs up and slaps against his stomach, thick and furious, already drooling precum down the shaft. He fists the base and angles it toward me. “Beg.”
“Please,” I gasp, spreading my legs wider without even thinking about it. “Please, Dominic. Let me have it. I need your cock so bad.”
“You need it?”
“I’m dying for it.”
“Show me.”
I pull my knees up to my chest, exposing my hole to him. A muscle jumps in his jaw. Spreading my ass cheeks apart with both hands, I beg. “Please, Dominic. I’m so empty. Fill me up. I want to feel that huge cock pounding into me. I want to leave this room sore and full of your cum. Please.”
His knuckles are white where he’s gripping the base of his dick.
My hole is winking at him, clenching around nothing.
“Look at that. It’s begging for you. Just like my mouth was.
It wants you so bad.” His breathing gets heavier, but his feet stay planted.
So I decide to put on a show for him. I grab the bottle of lube from the nightstand and flick it open.
Legs still in the air, I drizzle a stream of it over my hole.
The cold hits my overheated skin, and I moan, arching my back.
I know how this looks. Lewd. Desperate. I don’t care.
I circle my entrance with a slick finger, then push it inside. All the way to the last knuckle.
“Christ,” he grits out, taking a step closer to the bed.
“You like that?” I ask, pumping my finger in and out. “You like watching me open myself up for you?”
“Add another one.”
I do. Two fingers now, scissoring myself wide, stretching my hole for the beast he’s packing.
I’m so worked up by him watching me, by the hunger in his eyes, that I have to be careful.
I could come right now. Just from this. From his dark eyes on me, from the rough command in his voice.
From the thrill of being on display for him.
“Fuck,” he breathes, stroking himself slowly. “You’re something else.”
“Call me a filthy fuck again,” I say, my voice trembling as I twist my fingers inside myself. “Tell me what a slut I am for wanting you this badly.”
“No,” he says, climbing onto the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight.
“No?”
“You’re not a slut. Desperate, yeah. Shameless, definitely.
But I like that about you.” He looms over me, blocking out the yellowed ceiling light.
He takes my wrist, pulls my fingers out of myself, and brings them to his mouth.
I watch, mesmerized, as he sucks them clean, one by one, his tongue swirling around my knuckles. He doesn’t break eye contact.
My brain goes blank. All I can do is stare at him, mouth hanging open, as he releases my fingers with a wet pop. My cock is leaking so much it looks like I already came. If he doesn’t get inside me in the next ten seconds, I’m going to explode.
I grab a foil packet from the box on the nightstand and tear it open with my teeth. I go to roll it onto him, but he catches my wrist.
“Wait.”
“Wait? What for? I can’t fucking wait anymore, Dominic, I swear to God.”
He lets go of my wrist, leans over me, and braces himself on his arms, caging me in. “I want to fuck you bare.”
“You want to…?”
“You been tested?”
“Yeah. Haven’t been with anyone since my last one. And I’m on PrEP. You?”
“Three weeks ago. After I found out my girlfriend was fucking someone else.”
My heart does a little flip. He’s sharing something personal. Something real. And I’m so fucking honored by it. “That’s… I’m sorry, man.”
“Don’t be.” He runs a thumb over my lower lip. “If it hadn’t happened, I wouldn’t be here.”
Why does the gentle stuff scare me more than the rough? I can take a hand around my throat. I can take being called names. But this? The soft look in his eyes? The tender way he’s touching my face? This is the part that’s going to leave a mark.