10. Dexter #2
We tidied the kitchen together, letting conversation wander to neutral topics like the weather, the drills we’d run at practice today, and football in general.
He loved the Vikings and was worried about their defensive line.
I’d grown up rooting for the Lions and was ecstatic that we had something to celebrate lately, even if last season hadn’t been our best. We chatted about school rivalries and competition.
We’d done a version of this at the diner and the coffee shop, but this felt different. Easier. Sure, I did most of the talking, but Viggo didn’t seem to mind. Nor did he seem to be in a hurry to get rid of me.
I folded the dish towel and mopped up a little water on the counter as Viggo put newly cleaned mugs into the cupboard.
“I should go now.”
“Yes. Unless you’re inviting yourself for dinner, too.” The off-the-cuff comment was delivered with a disarming twinkle in his eye.
I grinned. “What are you having?”
He pointed meaningfully. “Out.”
“I’m going, I’m going.” I raised my arms in surrender, stepping toward the doorway.
Viggo did the same, and suddenly we were on a collision course, dodging left and right, each making room for the other to pass.
He stopped with his hands on his hips and growled. I laughed at the over-the-top grumpy act, and he laughed, too. Then we both went silent and just…stared.
I couldn’t say who made the first move. All I knew was that it hit like a bolt of lightning, fast and furious. One second I was in the middle of a doorway, and the next I was against a wall, arms spread above my head, and Viggo’s mouth was on mine.
I wiggled out of his grasp and wrapped my arms around his neck, tilting my chin to deepen the connection of twisting tongues and greedy groping.
I tasted sweet syrup and inhaled the scent of his shampoo through a feverish onslaught of hungry kisses.
Viggo nipped at my lips, licked my jaw, sucked my earlobe, and returned to devour my mouth.
All the while his hands moved from my chest to my hips, and finally my ass. And when he pulled me close, I lost my freaking mind. The hint of his erection through layers of denim and cotton stoked the flames into an inferno. I was going to combust if I didn’t get more…now.
I broke the kiss, lowering my hands to grapple with his belt with shaky fingers. He stopped me, his chest heaving as he shook his head.
“That wasn’t a kiss on the cheek.”
“No, it wasn’t,” I panted. “But I really fucking want you. Do you—”
He fused our mouths to shut me up, curling his hand at my throat as he cleaned my tonsils. I was so dizzy, I swayed and might have fallen if Viggo hadn’t held me steady.
He pulled my lower lip between his teeth and released me. “Yes.”
The trip upstairs was a blur. There was a near miss with a lamp along the way and a few picture frames went askew as we bounced off a wall, tugging at clothing with our mouths attached.
I managed to take off my shirt and leave my shoes on the landing.
Viggo was in close to the same state as we crashed into his bedroom.
I registered a king-sized bed with a navy duvet opposite a flat screen TV and a dresser. It was as neat as the rest of his house, but details escaped me. I was more interested in the Viking beast who looked like he wanted to eat me alive.
He paused with his fingers on his belt buckle and studied me intently, his gaze roving from my mouth to my pecs and drifting to the tent in my joggers. “We shouldn’t…”
I closed the distance between us and flattened his palm on my rigid pole. “We should.”
Viggo growled, capturing me in another filthy kiss that had us toppling sideways onto the mattress.
His hands and mouth were everywhere now, licking my neck, sucking my nipples while he slipped his fingers under the elastic of my boxer briefs and rubbed his thumb on my slit.
I groaned, impatiently shoving my briefs and joggers out of the way.
I opened my thighs and pulled him over me, hoping he’d get the message that it was a full-blown invitation to do… me.
Yep. He got it.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered gruffly.
I hummed my approval as Viggo trailed a finger along my length from tip to base before closing his beefy palm around me and stroking…
oh, so slowly. It was torture—sweet torture—but there was no chance of me lasting with him in control.
He was a fantasy in motion—an unexpected one, too.
I’d never been with anyone this big, this growly and rough.
I wanted him to take me apart, but I had to explore…just a little.
“My turn.” I pushed at Viggo’s chest and used my legs to switch our positions. “Jeans off.”
He obeyed in a hurry, pushing the fabric aside with his briefs and socks.
And it was just us…naked, hard, and half blinded by lust. At least that was how I felt ’cause holy crap, Viggo was magnificent.
He was big and thick…everywhere. And hairy, too.
I wouldn’t have thought that would do it for me, but I was leaking precum like a sieve.
Honestly, I couldn’t remember ever being this hard.
“Can I?” I kneeled between his spread legs and fondled his balls.
Viggo fisted his cock, his nostrils flaring as he unapologetically ogled me and nodded.
I didn’t hesitate. I bent and pressed my lips to his slit, savoring the heady taste of him.
Resting a hand on his belly, I twirled my tongue at his crown, then licked a trail along his length—up and down, up and down.
Viggo grunted and slid his fingers through my hair.
I took the hint and opened my mouth wide.
I admit I was woefully out of practice, but I’d honed my BJ skills well over the years.
I was eager and strung out and couldn’t wait to blow him away, so to speak.
I was a tad unprepared for his girth, though.
It bore repeating that Viggo was a big man.
Tears stung my eyes as I sucked him to the root, bobbing my head while I fondled his balls.
He groaned and tightened his grip on my hair. He didn’t escalate or force me to take more than I could handle. He let me set the pace.
I relaxed my jaw as much as possible and found my rhythm, pumping his length as I worshiped his cock. I was so in the zone that I didn’t register his warning at first.
“Stop.”
I pulled off with a slurp and gazed up at him, sex-drunk and needy. I wasn’t too proud to beg, but I couldn’t get the words out.
Viggo was on me, surrounding me. He fused our mouths and ground his pelvis, sliding his erection alongside mine. Fuck, I was gonna lose it. My spine tingled and my balls tightened. He lifted slightly to slip his hand between our torsos, curled his fingers around me, and stroked—once, twice…
“I’m close…I’m—ungh!”
Cum shot over his fist and onto my chest, burying me under wave after wave of pleasure like a set of rogue tidal waves. I was still floating in a blissed-out state when Viggo swiped his fingers through my release and jacked himself to the finish line, roaring like a feral beast.
It took a few minutes to resurface.
I wasn’t sure what to expect, so I might have dragged the inevitable moment of truth out longer than necessary. When I opened my eyes, Viggo was leaning on his elbow, staring at me intently.
“You’re okay?” he asked gruffly.
I smiled. “Yeah. You?”
“That was good. Probably very stupid, but…” He brushed a strand of hair from my forehead. “I’m not sorry.”
“Me either.”
We held a poignant gaze for a beat. I didn’t dare move a muscle, knowing there was a strong chance that things would get awkward in a hurry the second we walked out of this room.
Thankfully, it wasn’t too bad.
We took turns cleaning up in his en suite bathroom and made our way downstairs. I filled any potentially charged silence with inane chatter about weekend chores and the flag football admin work I’d put off for too long.
“I should hire an assistant, but I’m too busy to ask for help,” I said with a laugh, casually scooping up my discarded clothing and redressing in a reverse striptease. I pulled my joggers and tee on and retrieved my jacket from a hook in the foyer.
Viggo watched me, looking hotter than anyone had a right to in worn jeans, bare feet, and an old T-shirt. “You have everything?”
“I think so. Thank you for breakfast. Fritters on me tomorrow.”
“Okay.” His smile crinkled his eyes and softened his features.
I stared a beat too long before coming to my senses and getting the hell out of there.