55. Salem
SALEM
I wake and reach for Blue. When my hand pats the cold comforter, I groan and stare down at my morning wood. We spent all of yesterday talking, making love, and never being more than a few feet apart, and still, I miss him.
I drag myself out of bed, throw on my sweats, and follow the sounds to the kitchen.
He looks up as I enter. “Nooo. I wanted to bring you breakfast in bed.”
I grunt as I stalk over, pull down his briefs, and hike him up onto the counter.
“I’m making chocolate pan—Fuuuck.”
His hands massage my scalp as my lips wrap around his cock.
“Waaaiiit,” he slurs. “S-stove.”
I grunt as I work him down my throat.
“Baby…wait.”
I reach into my briefs to give myself some relief when a stripe of wet sludge slashes against my cheek.
I still and glare up at him.
He snickers, holding a spoonful of batter.
Little shit. When my eyes dart to the bowl of batter, we both freeze and then scramble for it. I’m faster.
I step back and turn off the stove. “You get a three-second head start.”
He kicks off his briefs and guns it.
Before I take off after him, I notice the soy sauce sitting on the counter.
I sniff the batter. The hell?
Time’s up.
I race through the living room, headed for the steps, when I see curls sticking out from behind the couch.
It’s literally the worst hiding place in the whole house.
I tiptoe over and flip the bowl over his head.
“Muthafucka,” he curses, and before I can jump back, his leg kicks out, and I’m wiped out. He climbs on top of me and rubs his face all over mine, painting it with batter.
“Stahp!” I try to push him off me.
He wraps his hand around my throat. “Fuck me, bitch.”
I point to the console table as I drag down my sweats and briefs, the batter making my hand slip on the first attempt.
He finds the condoms and lube and wings them at my head.
I hold up my batter-covered hands. He snatches up the condom and rolls it on me, then spreads his legs and, squeezing lube on his fingers, starts opening himself up.
God. Damn.
I push him forward onto his knees, line up, and ease inside him. He hisses when I cant my hips. On my next drive, his knees slip in the batter, and he almost takes me down with him.
We both laugh, trying to steady ourselves, only for my knee to give out, and we both land flat, me on top. I wrap my arm under his chest to anchor myself and then thrust into him, hard.
“Ngh,” he moans.
Simba barks and then races out of the room.
“Scream my name like you did in the middle of the night,” I order. And because I have to earn it, I fuck him hard and without mercy, not stopping even as my name scrapes from his throat, again and again.
Blue’s so loud that at first, I think he’s the cause of the ringing in my ears. Then he stiffens as we both hear it—the doorbell.
We seem to wordlessly agree to ignore it as my hips pull back and I sink balls deep into him.
What if it’s Denzel?
He’d use his key, right?
Fuck.
“Hold on.” I kiss his cheek before pulling out and heading over to the security console. He flips onto his back and sits up.
I grin. “It’s your sister.”
“What?”
Ana?s is waving at the camera like she can see me.
He scrambles to his feet and almost loses his balance, sliding on the batter.
I take us in. “We look wild.”
“Wait. It’s pouring. She shouldn’t be out there.” He grabs my sweats and throws them on. “You go upstairs and clean up. I’ll let her in.”
“Cool.” I disarm the security system.
“Hey.” He walks over to me, drags off the condom, and strokes my dick. “This load is mine later.”
I wink at him. “I love you, but I’m definitely coming in the shower.”
He growls and drops to his knees. “You have one minute to come.” Grabbing the backs of my thighs, his tongue slides down the underside of my cock before he sucks me down.
He presses down on my taint, and my stomach contracts.
He tugs on my balls and then inches his fingers back toward my hole.
He looks up at me, silently asking permission.
I nod, and as soon as his finger rubs against my rim, I groan, the first wave hitting me.
When he breaches me, I’m grunting into my fist and shooting down his throat.
He sucks me dry, kisses my dick, jumps to his feet, and smirks as he says, “Like I said, my load.”
I stand there, panting against a wall with my dick out.
How’d he do that? How does he make me come in, like, thirty seconds?
I scrape up the condom and wrapper—no time to clean up the batter—and drag myself up the stairs on rubbery legs.