Chapter 14 #2
I smirked, leaning to capture his mouth again, my tongue sliding against his.
His hands moved to my shoulders, then to my back, his nails digging in as I ground my hips against his, the friction of our cocks through our jeans sending a jolt of pleasure through me.
He gasped into the kiss, his hips lifting, seeking more, and he groaned, reaching for his belt.
“I want you so bad,” he mumbled as I popped the button of his jeans and dragged the zipper down.
His cock was already hard, the head peeking above the waistband of his black briefs, and when I wrapped my hand around him, stroking him through the fabric, he let out a broken sound, his hips jerking up.
“Fuck, Cole—”
“I know,” I murmured, my teeth grazing his pulse point. “I’ve got you.”
And I did. I had him and I wasn’t letting go.
Only, one second, I had him pinned beneath me, his breath hitching every time I traced my fingers along his ribs.
Next, his hands shot up between us, and with a sudden, fluid motion, he rolled us, the air rushing out of my lungs as Morgan’s lean frame settled over mine, his thighs straddling my hips, his weight pressing me into the mattress.
I blinked up at him, stunned. His hair fell forward, shadowing those sharp cheekbones, his pale eyes burning with something I’d never seen in them before—not hesitation, not caution, but hunger.
“Fuck,” I breathed, my voice rough, confidence was so hot in this man.
His lips parted, just slightly, and then—god, then he smirked.
It was a small thing, a faint curl at the corner of his mouth, but it sent a jolt straight to my gut.
His hips shifted, just enough that the heat of him, the weight of him, settled more firmly on me.
My hands instinctively gripped his waist, fingers digging into the dip just above his ass, and I could feel the way his breath hitched, the way his thighs tensed around me.
“You like that?” he murmured, his voice low.
I groaned, bucking my hips up just enough to grind. “You have no idea.”
His smirk deepened, and something dark and possessive flickered in his eyes.
He braced one hand beside my head, his fingers splaying into the sheets.
And with the other, scraped his nails lightly over my nipple.
I hissed, my back arching, and Morgan made a sound—something between a hum and a growl—that vibrated straight through me.
“Tell me what I can do,” he asked, his voice rougher now.
I laughed, breathless, because this—this—was the last thing I’d expected.
Morgan, who had spent the last hour looking worried and nervous, was riding me, his hips rolling in a slow, teasing rhythm that had my cock throbbing.
“I want you to fucking use me,” I growled, gripping his hips harder. “However, you want. Just—fuck—”
His mouth crashed onto mine before I could finish, his teeth nipping at my lower lip, his tongue sweeping in deep and demanding.
I groaned into him, dragging my nails down his spine.
He shuddered, his cock hard and leaking against my stomach, the friction maddening.
I could feel the way his heart hammered, the way his fingers tangled in my hair, yanking just enough to make my scalp sting.
He pulled back suddenly, his chest heaving, his eyes wild. “Are you mine?” he asked.
“Completely,” I rasped, my voice raw. “Fuck—Morgan—” My voice broke.
He didn’t stop. His tongue swirled around my nipple before his teeth closed on it, just shy of painful. My cock ached, trapped in my jeans, and I fumbled for the button, but Morgan batted my hands away.
“No,” he murmured. “Let me.”
I groaned, my head falling back as his fingers finally popped the button open, then his hand was inside, wrapping around my cock, stroking me through the damp fabric of my briefs. I choked on a gasp, my hips jerking up into his touch.
“Look at you,” he breathed, his thumb pressing down on the head of my cock, right where the fabric was darkest. “So beautiful.”
“Morgan, please—” I begged, my voice cracking.
He didn’t make me wait. His fingers hooked into the waistband of my briefs and yanked, freeing my cock.
The cool air hit my overheated skin, and then his hand was back, his strokes slow and deliberate.
I whimpered, clawing at the sheets, my hips lifting into each drag of his fist, his touch maddeningly light.
“More,” I gasped.
His mouth was on me, his tongue lapping at the head of my cock, tasting me. I cried out, my back bowing off the bed, my fingers tangling in his hair. He took his time, his lips wrapping the crown, his tongue swirling, teasing, before he took me deeper, his throat opening around me.
“Oh god—” My voice was a wreck, my thighs trembling.
I could feel the way his free hand gripped my hip, holding me down, keeping me still as he bobbed his head, his lips sealed around the base of my cock.
The wet, obscene sounds filled the room, and I could see the way his own cock jerked, leaking, untouched.
My orgasm barrelled through me, and he swallowed every drop. I hauled him up, crashing our mouths together, and he gasped into the kiss, his lips slick.
“Your turn,” I growled, flipping us again in one swift motion. His back hit the mattress with a thud, his eyes wide. I didn’t give him time to protest. My hand wrapped his cock, stroking him hard, my thumb swiping over the slick head.
His breath hitched, his hips shuddering up into my touch. “Cole—fuck—”
“I’ve got you,” I murmured, leaning to bite his nipple, my free hand sliding down to cup his balls, rolling them gently. “Just like this. Just like—”
His cock pulsed in my grip, his back arching, and then he was coming, his release spilling over my fingers, hot and thick. His mouth fell open in a silent cry, his body trembling beneath me, and I watched, mesmerized, as he shattered.
When he finally collapsed back to the sheets, breathing hard, I brought my hand to my mouth, licking his come from my fingers, my eyes locked on his.
His gaze darkened, his lips parting. “Wow,” he breathed.
I grinned, wiping my hand on the sheet before reaching for his waist, dragging him toward me.
“I love you, Morgan,” I said.
And he went still.