THIRTY-NINE
Max
W ith my teammates skating in the pregame warm up, Luca kneels on the carpet in front of me.
An intense hockey game playing our rivals on the television- Check.
Stomach full on a great meal- Check.
The most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen ready to suck me off because I asked him- Check.
I grab Luca by the back of his head. “Aren’t you worried you’ll be too distracted to properly protect me if my cock is in your mouth?”
“Duncan is posted in the lobby tonight because of the fight with Quinn. You can consider me off duty.” He kisses me. Hard.
“God, I was a fool for trying to resist you,” I mutter, deep and gravelly.
“Tell me what you want,” he groans.
“Suck me like I’m one of those whores in your club?” My heart races, blood roaring in my ears.
“That’s fake. This is real. For me,” he confesses.
“Yeah, this is real for me too.” God, how I want him.
“More...” His lips trail down my body, pulling my shirt out of my jeans. “Elaborate.”
“I came so hard thinking of your mouth around my cock when you left last night,” I say, gripping his hair tighter. “Everything about you screams power and intensity. I want to feel you unleash that power on me.”
“Oh, baby. Just you wait.” He looks up at me, his tongue lashing against the contours of my abs. “You are so fucking perfect.”
“Now suck my cock.” I reach into my pants and release my aching cock. “Make me come.”
Luca doesn’t take me into his mouth, though. He licks the underside, his pierced, wet tongue coating my length with his saliva.
So fucking wet.
He licks the bulbous, throbbing head of my dick as his warm hand grips the base of my shaft. Everything twitches, and my balls tighten. When he closes his lips around the tip, I nearly bust my nut.
Here I am, with my pants around my ankles getting blown by my bodyguard.
The power imbalance blurs and after a few sucks, he takes me entirely into his mouth. My whole world narrows, and for a second, the room is stripped of all my glory. All I want is Luca’s mouth getting me off. He’s all that matters.
A man, this man, sucking my cock ignites a passion more than any woman ever did. I grip his hair with both fists and fuck his mouth, pistoning my hips, deep throating him until I’m lost all over again.
He gurgles, his throat vibrating from his gag reflex. I stop pumping and allow him to come up for air. Then I make eye contact and push him back down to suck my greedy cock.
My eyes stray to the television, the screen filled with my skating beasts out for blood and revenge. All while I’m getting my dick sucked. It’s hard to feel sorry for myself for the suspension when I’m balls deep in euphoric erotic agony.
My control snaps, and my orgasm shatters any composure I had. I cry out, a loud moan ripping from my throat as I spill down Luca’s throat. He drinks me down. Every damn drop .
“Fuck,” I roar. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”
It’s a war cry, booming and aggressive. I don’t give a shit if all of Stamford hears me.
“Good boy.” I yank Luca up by a mess of glossy brown curls and kiss him, licking the inside of his mouth to taste myself on his tongue.
We breathe heavily, our foreheads together. His eyes lower and he licks his lips. “Wow,” is all he says.
The game comes back into focus as the commentator shouts, “Madison passes to Willis, he shoots, he scores. 4-1, Richmond!”
Sitting up, my attention pivots to the screen. Four -One? How the fuck long was Luca sucking my dick? Christ, did he keep going since my team was losing?
Are they getting creamed because I’m not there?
Luca bristles, getting to his feet. In jeans and a tight gray sweater, he looks sharp, and not like a man who just sucked a dick. “I’ll be right back...”
“Wait,” I say, my eyes back and forth from his to the game. “You...”
“I’ll take care of myself. Watch the game.”
I get to my feet. “You don’t want to watch it with me anymore?”
He glances around. “You like your space. I respect that.”
“I like you in my space more,” comes out before I can stop myself.