29. Jet Fuel
29
JET FUEL
Nate
When Hunter finally confessed that he wanted me to be his first, I figured I’d be leading him through sex. I was game for that.
Now, I’m not sure who’s seducing who.
I stand at the edge of the bed as he takes his time undressing me, undoing each button, kissing me as he goes. Then he licks a path down my chest, flicking his tongue against one nipple, then the other.
He pops up, gives me the most carnal smile. This man has a sex agenda tonight. He knows exactly what he’s going to do to me.
He slides my shirt down my arms, his fingers luxuriously tracing my muscles. “Your body,” he says as he maps my biceps, my forearms, my wrists.
Pretty sure I’ve only had one glass of champagne, but I’m intoxicated.
I’m also not sure what to say or do. I’m supposed to be the one teaching.
But Hunter’s got this lesson covered as he pushes my shirt to the floor. “Look at you,” he says, roaming those questing hands all over me.
Soon, I’m trembling everywhere, and he hasn’t even undone my pants. His hands explore my arms, my chest, my abs.
There’s no question now—Hunter’s seducing me. Maybe he always has been.
Soon, he unzips my pants and pushes them down my legs. I help him along, kicking them off.
He hisses, his eyes lingering on the outline of my erection in my boxer briefs. Then he pushes me back to the bed.
“You’re dressed. Maybe change that,” I suggest, tipping my chin toward him.
Obliging, Hunter strips off his shirt then his pants. Then he points to the headboard. “Get on the bed all the way,” he commands.
Cha-ching . “Who’s bossy now?”
“Do it,” he says, all stern and sexy.
Grinning, I obey the student turned teacher. He climbs over me, stopping at my waist to strip me naked. My cock springs free.
He lets out a guttural groan, then licks a line up my shaft.
“Yes, do that,” I murmur.
But he doesn’t comply.
Instead, he lifts his face then sits up and stretches his body over mine, bracing himself on his palms. “Hi.”
“Hey,” I say, unsure why he’s changed his mind.
“Nate,” he says, my name heavy on his tongue. “I need to stop for a second.”
I tense but then try to let the worries go. He’s here with me. No need to think the worst. “What is it?”
“I want you to do something tonight,” he says, his gaze fearless.
I thread a hand through his soft hair. “Name it.”
“Tell me what you like as I go, okay?”
That’s such a welcome change from what I was expecting—such a turn on too. “Yeah. Of course.”
“This is still all new to me, but I have an idea of what I want to do to you,” he says, flicking his tongue over the corner of his lips.
That’s the hottest thing anyone’s ever said to me. “You do?”
“I’ve been plotting it during dinner.” He sounds giddy. Same here. “But if it’s not what you like, just tell me.”
I grab the back of his neck, haul him against me. “Spoiler alert—I’m gonna like it.”
He huffs, like here goes nothing . “I want to indulge in you.”
I close my eyes, stunned by the sentiment. The sensuality of it. The intimacy.
I sink down and finally, finally , I know what to do.
With my hands.
My body.
My mind.
I relax into Hunter Colburn.
I let him worship me.
It’s not easy to let go, but I do it. His mouth takes a tour down my body, his lips traveling over my Adam’s apple, along to my pecs. I shudder then lift my hips, trying to get closer, figuring he’ll kiss my abs next.
But he surprises me, darting over to my right arm, brushing those lush lips along my wrist.
I shiver. No one has kissed me there. No one has kissed my biceps.
Is my entire arm an erogenous zone and no one told me?
Remembering he wants to know what I like, I say, “That feels good.”
He smiles against my shoulder then kisses down my left arm.
I’m vibrating, I swear.
Then, he slides between my legs, pushing them apart.
“Yes, love that,” I tell him.
I want him there. Right there. But he doesn’t take my dick into his mouth.
Instead, he kisses my knee, and I shudder.
What the hell is going on? I’m turned on from a knee kiss.
I have no idea what’s happening, but my bones are fucking melting. Then, they’re dissolving when he kisses up my thigh, his fingers coasting through the hair on my legs.
My dick is throbbing. I can barely speak. “So good. Too good,” I grunt.
When he takes a breather, I open my eyes. Then, like he’s found the confidence, he says, “I wonder if you’ll like this then.”
He licks a stripe down my shaft right to my balls, sucking on one, then the other.
“Fuck yes,” I howl.
He laughs but keeps on licking.
It’s too good, too electric, too everything.
He kisses up my dick. “And I wonder if you’ll like this,” he says, then flicks his tongue against the head of my cock.
I claw at the sheets. “Love it,” I groan. It’s such a thrill to experience him finding his dirty-talking rhythm.
“And how about this?” he asks, as he parts his lips wide then sucks me deep.
I pant, then answer, “Fucking love it. Keep doing it.”
He nods against my cock, then drags me deeper, moaning against my length.
I can see desire flickering in his eyes, can feel it in his hands sliding up my thighs, can hear it in his noises as he rumbles against my cock.
I’m drunk on Hunter. Utterly consumed with him. Pleasure pulses in my back. My thighs. Faster and faster still. I grab his head, curl my hands tighter. “Want to know what I’d really like?”
He drops me from his mouth. “Yes,” he says desperately.
“To come down your throat,” I grunt.
“Want that too,” he says with a groan.
Then he licks and kisses, sucks and slurps, touches and fondles. It’s the most indulgent blow job I could have imagined. It’s so good, I couldn’t dream this up. I didn’t even know head could be this luxurious until this man walked into my condo mere months ago.
And now, into my bed.
Into my life.
Into my…
My brain blurs as a climax seizes me then breaks me apart from the inside out.
I’m shouting. Groaning. Losing control as I come ridiculously hard. “Yes, fucking yes,” I chant.
It’s like I’ve shot to the sky on a rocket, hurtling away from this planet, powered by a jet-fueled orgasm.
Somehow, sometime later, I come down to earth, and my world is even better when I find Hunter straddling me, jerking his cock, fierce concentration etched on his brow. He’s so aroused, so close.
But that orgasm is mine.
I want it ferociously.
I cover his hand, stopping him. “Get up here and fuck my face. Now .”
Hunter scrambles to straddle my shoulders. “Like this?”
I don’t answer with words. I grab his hips and haul his cock deep in my throat.
“Oh, fuck me. I like this. I like this a lot. No. I fucking love it. Fucking love it so much,” he mutters as he pumps and thrusts, and seconds later, he comes. He’s bitter and salty and everything I’ve ever wanted.
When Hunter withdraws, he’s grinning down at me.
“That was so good,” he says, as wickedly sated as if he’d just finished a three-Michelin-star meal.
“It was the best,” I say. Our eyes lock, and I don’t know who moves first, but we collide in a flurry of limbs and sweaty skin. I move him down the bed, so we’re face-to-face, chest to chest, making out furiously. I kiss him hard and passionately. We taste like each other. He kisses me back, deep and rough. I band an arm around his back. He hooks a leg around my hip.
We kiss and rub, and no one is trying to come, but both of us are trying to get closer.
I don’t want to stop a thing.
Not tonight, not tomorrow, and not when this week ends.