Chapter 9 #2
He leans forward, and the frantic energy that was between us a few moments ago melts into something slow and deliberate.
He makes quick work of my belt before slowly, carefully, dragging the fabric down, leaving me lying on the bed in nothing but my black boxer briefs.
The cool air hits my skin, followed immediately by the heat of his hands as he moves them slowly up my thighs, from my knees to my hips.
He shifts backward and bends at the waist, keeping his eyes locked on mine as he lowers his face toward my groin, like he’s waiting for me to stop him. But there’s no way that’s happening.
Finally, he closes his eyes, nuzzling into the crease of my thigh, and sucks in a deep breath through his nose.
“Fuuuuck,” he groans softly. “You smell so fucking good.”
I need to touch him, so I scratch my fingernails against his scalp gently as he moves. He mouths my balls and my achingly hard shaft through the soft cotton of my underwear, and his hot breath damn near sets my entire body on fire.
He treats me like I’m something precious. Like my body is something he wants to worship.
I let out another groan, desperate for more. I’m dying to feel him against my skin with nothing between us. This over-the-underwear action is hot, but I want so much more.
“Please,” I whisper, my voice like gravel. “God, Tanner.” Without pausing to think, I stick my hand under the waistband of my underwear, clumsily pushing them down on the one side I can reach, ignoring the stab of pain that shoots through my chest and shoulder as my core muscles engage.
He lifts his head, and the grin on his face lights me up from the inside out, even with the pain radiating from my fucked up shoulder.
“So impatient,” he murmurs, clucking his tongue as he hooks his fingers under the waistband and drags them down.
My cock springs free, and he looks at it for a long moment before shifting his gaze up to my eyes and licking his lips.
“You have a gorgeous cock,” he whispers.
“I never let myself imagine you hard. If I did, I’d end up with a hard-on in the showers. ”
I groan again. I can’t believe how hot it is to hear those words from his mouth.
When he finally lowers his head, he drags his tongue up the side of my cock, licking it like it’s a popsicle. My hips buck off the mattress involuntarily.
“Fuck,” I hiss, pain shooting through my chest again.
“Is it too much?” he asks softly, raising his head. “We can stop.”
“Fuck no, don’t you dare fucking stop,” I gasp. “I just have to try to keep still.”
“Mmm.” He gets a wicked gleam in those blue eyes, one side of his mouth curling into a smirk I’ve never seen on him before. “I can help with that.”
He takes hold of both my hips with his big hands, pinning me in place before lowering his head again, taking my cock fully into his mouth all at once.
“Oh, god,” I whimper. The searing heat of his mouth is a shock against the cold radiating from the ice pack on my shoulder. The contrast sharpens every nerve ending.
He takes his time, learning the terrain of my body. It’s agonizingly slow and focused. It’s meticulous, just like everything Tanner Sinclair does.
I force my eyes open, and the visual hits me harder than the physical pleasure. Tanner, the golden boy, the rookie who’s been driving me crazy for months, on his knees between my legs, swallowing around my cock.
His eyes are squeezed shut, his brows drawn together in concentration, before he opens them and looks up, his eyes meeting mine. Their normal icy-blue color is darkened, dilated with pleasure and heat.
“That’s it,” I groan, my voice sounding wrecked. “Fuck, Sinc, that’s so good.”
It’s incredible. I’ve had more than my share of blowjobs over the years, but this, what Tanner Sinclair is doing to me, is next-level. I’ve been with women my whole life. I know their softness, their gentle curves.
This is completely different. It’s not that he’s rough—he’s taking care not to hurt me—but something about the strength of a man’s body, the roughness of his stubble and the solid weight of him, it’s like it’s somehow more.
My hunger for him is sharper than anything I’ve felt before.
It’s like it’s not only physical; it’s a transference of energy between bodies of equal strength.
I want to take everything he’s giving me and more.
He’s pouring everything he has into me, and I’m drinking it in.
He makes a low noise in his throat, and the vibration reaches all the way to my toes. Then he takes me even deeper.
His throat bobs, his hands gripping my hips, anchoring me in place. That self-defeating loop in his head telling him he messed up is being overwritten, beat by beat, with this. With us.
“Yes,” I praise him, grabbing a handful of the sheet with my good hand. “You’re incredible. God, Tanner.”
He picks up the pace, sensing I’m close. The friction, the heat, the wet slide of his mouth—it’s all too much. My world narrows down to the feeling of his mouth on my cock. The pain in my shoulder disappears, drowned out by the roar of blood in my ears.
“Tanner, I’m gonna come.”
He doesn’t stop; he works harder, swallowing me down and taking everything I have to give.
My orgasm hits hard, my core muscles contracting and sending another sharp flare of pain through my chest and shoulder, but I don’t care. It’s almost like the pain grounds me, because without it, this pleasure might shatter me into a million tiny pieces.
I slump back into the pillows, gasping for air, my heart hammering against my ribs.
Tanner pulls back slowly. He’s messy and flushed, but his eyes sparkle as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, his chest heaving. He looks beautifully wrecked.
“You okay?” I wheeze.
He nods, staring at me with wide, blown pupils. “I should be asking you that,” he says with another smirk.
“I’m good. So good,” I murmur. But then it hits me that there’s not much I can do to reciprocate. “Shit,” I whisper. “What about you? What can I do for you?”
“It’s okay,” he says, looking down.
“That’s not fair. Shit, I’m sorry,” I say, but he cuts me off.
“I came,” he whispers, a flush rising up his neck that has nothing to do with the room temperature. “I didn’t even touch myself. That was so fucking hot.”
My brain short-circuits. He came just from giving to me? Hands-free?
Ideally, I’d pull him on top of me. I’d roll us over. I’d do a hell of a lot of things. But my body is a wreckage site, so I do the only thing I can.
I hook my hand behind his neck and pull him down. “Come here.”
He collapses forward carefully, avoiding my injured side, resting his forehead against my good shoulder. His breathing is still ragged against my skin.
I press a kiss to his damp, sweat-spiked hair. My mind is officially blown. I’m thirty-four years old, and I just got the best blowjob of my life from a guy, who came hands-free just from tasting me.
“Thank you,” I whisper into his hair. “That was… incredible.”
He lets out a long, shaky breath. “Yeah,” he murmurs against my skin. “It was.”