Chapter 17
CHAPTER
SEVENTEEN
ZIGGY
Kennedy’s looking at me like he doesn’t know where those words came from, and I’m feeling the same way. Considering I practiced them over and over before I spoke, I should have been more prepared for how they’d sound out loud, but I’m still in shock.
All I know is that Kennedy does make me feel safe. It’s not the kind of safe that shuts up all of my irrational thoughts, but it is the kind of safe that makes me want to try.
“Did you like kissing me?” he asks.
It was the greatest moment of my life. I have no idea if he interprets my nod that way or not, but an exhale rushes from him.
“Stop me thinking, Ziggy.”
I’m nervous as hell, but the second my lips touch his, that surge of power comes back to me. Like if we keep kissing, I can forget everything that’s ever happened up until this moment. I’m just a man kissing another man.
He parts his lips, mustache scratching my skin in a way that sends pleasant ripples down my neck, and I follow his lead. His tongue strokes into my mouth. I’m buzzing at the contact, buzzing at the way he licks my barbell, buzzing at the overwhelming warmth as his mouth seals to mine.
My hand drops from his cheek to the hollow at the base of his throat that his parted robe has been teasing me with.
It’s right above that sexy crease between his pecs and hints at the hair that covers his chest. I want to push the stupid robe off his shoulders and spend the night exploring his body, but I’m lucky to even get this.
Talking might not be something that comes easily for me, but I’ve never thought of myself as unconfident.
I’m capable, I’ve built what I thought was a good life, I have friend-type people and a useful skill …
but I’ve never had sex before. It’s not like I could go out and strike up a conversation with someone I was interested in, and living with my mom and dad made sneaking out for a hookup impossible.
Now, I’m kissing a man I’ve fantasized about every day since I met him, and I have no idea how to take things further. How to show him that I want more.
It was hard enough to ask him if he wanted to kiss me again, but I was determined to use my words this time. Asking him if he wants to have sex? There’s no way.
And knowing what I know of Kennedy, he’s not going to be the one to make the first move.
The longer we kiss, the harder I get though, and I’m worried that if I don’t do something about it soon, I’m going to come just from kissing.
I refuse to let it end that way.
I break my lips from his, struggling to breathe, scared I’m about to ruin everything as I let my fingers slip from his throat and set my hand on his knee. I’m so nervous I feel sick, but I wait for his unfocused eyes to sharpen on mine, and then I slide my hand up an inch and stop.
The brown speckled through his green eyes is deepened in the motel lamplight, and they bounce from one of my eyes to the next, like he’s trying to pull the thoughts from my mind.
His large hand covers mine. “If you want it, I want it. But there’s no pressure from me.”
I’m trying to work out whether he’s too nice to turn me down.
“I swear,” he continues. “I’d be happy to kiss all night if that’s what you wanted.”
The rasp in his voice gives me confidence.
I slip my hand under the robe, and before I can stop again to check in with him, Kennedy’s head tips back to the ceiling. “Oh, fuck,” he gasps, tendons in his neck tightening. “Touch me, Ziggy.”
Touch him … I can’t believe I’m about to.
The robe bunches around my arm as my hand slides over his fleshy thigh, loving the strength in it and marveling at the way the light hair is tickling my palm.
I’ve wanted to do this for so long that the fact that it’s happening has my cock aching.
My tip is brushing the rough cotton of the bathrobe, and I’m sure I’m leaking all over it, but I don’t care.
I only want to know if Kennedy is doing the same.
I’m holding my breath as I reach the top of Kennedy’s thigh, and my hand doesn’t stop.
It dips between his legs as he spreads them wider, and then …
his balls fill my grip. My dick pulses, and I almost lose it myself, but somehow, I manage to hang on through what is hands down the sexiest moment of my life.
His balls are heavy and warm against my cool skin. Cradling them, rolling my hand over them, exploring every hair and crease and vein is something I want to carry with me to my grave. My vision wavers for a moment, and I remind myself to breathe.
I’m not sure my stuttered inhale could be considered breathing, but it brings me back to the moment enough to enjoy it.
I explore higher, leaving his balls behind and trailing my fingers over his hard shaft.
The relief that hits me over him being as turned on as I am is ridiculous, but I don’t let it stop me.
My hand closes around his cock, and I’m touching more than I’ve dreamed of touching, but all it’s doing is making me want more.
He’s thick, long, bigger than me, but that’s all I have to compare it to.
All I know is that it feels amazing, and now when I jerk off over him, this is going to be burned into my brain.
At least that’s what I think until Kennedy’s whine fills his chest and he thrusts into my grip. “More,” he begs, and then, before I know what he’s doing, he tugs at the tie on the bathrobe, and both sides of it fall open, revealing everything.
My jaw actually drops.
I’d gotten an eyeful of his body the other day, but seeing the way his stomach curves down to his groin, the way the light blond hair beneath his belly button trails down to his pubes, and the way my pale hand is wrapped around his angry-looking cock is almost too much.
I give him another firm stroke, and Kennedy falls back against the bed. He’s biting the knuckles on one hand while the other buries into his hair.
I want to ask him if this is good. If he’s enjoying himself.
But Kennedy doesn’t leave me guessing for long.
“Bit tighter,” comes out muffled around his fist. “Just like that.” He thrusts into my hand again, and this time, I’m ready to stroke him through it. A speck of precum builds at his tip, and I watch it get larger as my hand moves over him.
Every inch of him is incredible, but I’d be lying if I said I was looking at more than his dick.
It’s paler than the rest of him, but still a few shades darker than my hand, and there’s a prominent vein running along the underside.
He looks painfully swollen, and I feel the same.
I’m tempted to touch myself too, but I know the second I get some friction, I’m done for.
My balls are already tight to my body, and I’m fighting with everything I have to keep this going.
I’m so horny, and I have no idea if this gets better with practice, but I refuse to be embarrassed. I’m finally getting to experience this, and the only thing I’m allowing myself to think about is Kennedy and how perfectly his cock fills my hand.
Well, that and the way my gaze keeps returning to the teasing drop of precum. His tip is dark red, and stroking him isn’t bringing the relief we both need.
My mouth waters, and I need more. More him. More memories. More moments I can take with me after now, when I question whether this happened at all.
So I lean in and run my nose over his balls.
They twitch, and when I glance up, Kennedy’s mouth is hanging open.
I give in to the urge to bury my face into him and inhale deeply.
He smells like sex and him, and this time when my cock begs to be touched, I listen.
Not for relief, but to strangle that thing and get it back from the edge.
Fuck, I want to come. I want to come so badly. I’m a mess with how much I’m leaking, but I’m goddamn making this last, and I squeeze my cock almost to the point of pain.
Then I press my face into him again.
His scent is like a drug, the way it makes my brain so cloudy. I swipe my tongue over his tightening balls, then relax my grip on his cock as I rub my face over it as well. I want to live here. With Kennedy begging and my cock begging, and me indulging in all the ways I want.
I reach his tip, and my tongue darts out to catch that bead of cum.
The sound Kennedy lets out almost sounds like a whimper. “You’re killing me, Ziggy.”
I hold his eye contact as long as possible while I wrap my mouth around his tip. I suck it in, eyes falling closed at the lightly salty taste that hits me. I’m running off pure instinct, and I know I’m supposed to be fitting as much dick into my mouth as possible, but I can barely make it halfway.
I turn off the stupid voice telling me that I’ll never be good enough and remember this is my first time. Maybe, if we do this again, he can teach me what he likes, but for now, this is enough. This is real. Raw.
Perfect.
Spit dribbles down his length and makes it easier for my hand to move and meet my lips. To make up for the lack of depth, my tongue doesn’t stop moving over him, and when I use my barbell to run over his slit, both of Kennedy’s legs twitch against me.
“Again,” he pants. “Piercing. Again.”
I do as I’m told and open my eyes to watch goose bumps break over his skin. He’s tugging at one of his nipples, and I want to reach the other, but between breathing and licking and stroking, I’m all tapped out.
The taste on my tongue gets stronger, and Kennedy gives short, shallow thrusts into my mouth.
“So … close …”
I’m prepared for whatever he gives me, and I squeeze my dick in warning that it has to wait a tiny bit longer.
But when I think he must be about to fill my mouth with cum, Kennedy pulls out suddenly, grabs me, and flips us so my back hits the mattress.
He hovers over me, supporting his weight on the forearm at my side, while his free hand reaches for the tie on my robe.
“I want to see you naked before I come. Can I?”
I’m too stunned to do anything more than nod. Kennedy’s intense gaze, his hand opening the knot, peeling back the material, revealing me to his greedy eyes …
Shit.
Shit, shit, shit.
All it would take is a light breeze to come at this point. I’m so ready.
He chokes deeply, “You’re pierced,” and before I can stop him, Kennedy moves down the bed and sucks me all the way into his mouth. The sudden heat and suction engulfing me is impossible to fight against. My hands grip fists into the bedding, and the simmering pleasure building in my balls explodes.
I come hard and fast, vision blinking darker and lighter as I unload into his mouth. The high sweeps from my head to my limbs, and I ride it out until my cock stops throbbing in his mouth and my body turns to Jell-O.
I’m completely wiped out. Bubbly and happy in a way I’ve never been before.
Then reality crashes into me.
I cover my face, unable to believe I was barely in his mouth before I came. Rooney’s always open to talking about his hookups, and while I might have been a virgin, I’ve picked up enough from him to know that no guy is impressed by it being over so soon.
I don’t even notice Kennedy has moved until his husky voice fills my ear.
“That was so fucking hot.” His body blankets mine, and he grabs one of my legs to wrap around his waist. Kennedy grinds down into me, rutting his hard cock against my softening one. “You have no idea … how crazy … you make me …”
His thrusts get faster, firmer, and I tug his mouth down to meet mine again. When his tongue dips between my lips, I taste myself, and the satisfaction that brings catches me by surprise. There’s something deeply possessive about knowing he just drank my cum.
He feeds me the kind of unhinged groan that only comes from being close, so I fumble my way to his nipple. As soon as I find it, I pinch it gently, over and over, until Kennedy stiffens above me.
His moan is long and loud as he comes, his release painting my stomach and landing in my groin. The wetness seeps into my skin as I lie there, and Kennedy, instead of breaking the kiss, only deepens it. His weight sags against me until I’m being swallowed by the mattress.
And I love every second of it.