Chapter 06 MARLO
Lennix tries to stand when Sadie tosses him a wave over my shoulder, but drops right back down to the seat.
His face is so flushed, I’m actually worried about his blood pressure.
“The studio is rented out for the rest of the night,“
Sadie offers as she gathers up her things. “So, take your time.”
Nodding, I watch her leave before I turn to Lennix and grin.
“Was it everything you hoped?”
His swallow bobs his throat on my approach, those green eyes trailing my every step.
“No,“
he rasps. “And yes.”
Snickering, I don’t stop until my knees are touching the insides of his. Like there’s magnets in his palms, his hands come to rest on my waist, digits curling into my skin.
They’re so hot, they feel like brands.
“We have some time before we have to lock up …”
It’s a leading statement, for sure. Hopeful. And kind of fucking passive for me, but gentle seems to be Lennix’s game. I can be that.
I mean … it’s not like I’ll be bending him over the back of the chair or anything. At least not tonight.
“Okay,“
he blows out on a heavy breath, fingers teasing patterns over my hips. “Good … I’m not ready yet.”
“To stand up with a boner? Felt that.”
A surprised breath catches in his throat, and he shakes whatever it was from his head.
“Not ready to burst the bubble.”
Smirking, I lean in so close that my hair falls into his face again, strands catching on his lashes. “On that note …”
I drop to my knees and reach for his fly.
Sparing him a quick, questioning glance, I finger the first button free.
His lips spread into a shocked O, his breath catching audibly.
“Yes?”
Jaw snapping shut with another audible click, he nods enthusiastically. “Y-yeah. Please yes-s.”
Smirking, I unclasp the second fastener and yank down his fly.
I’m greeted by a wet spot over the bulging head of his cock, the length of him straining the cotton material. I can almost see flesh color beneath the blue fabric.
My mouth waters instantly.
To know that I can make him like this with just a few feathered kisses and neck touches? It’s almost as intoxicating as his scent.
I’ve been ignoring it until now—it’s ingrained in me to—but being this close to him makes it impossible.
“You seem more like a jockstrap kinda guy. Ever worn one?“
I work my fingers through the open layers of his undies, and his choked response cuts off when skin meets skin. “Fuck, you’re thick.”
A caged groan works out of his throat when I pull him free.
“Your hands are cold.”
“Shit, sorry.“
I snap them back and cup them to blow hot air between my palms.
“It’s okay,“
he murmurs and inches farther down the chair, making himself comfortable. “Felt nice.”
Snorting, I wrap him up in a fist and pull the skin taut. His head is shining and purple, looking just like my favorite kind of lollipop, and—
“Holy shit, is that a frenum?”