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Besides, the kitchen faces the back garden, which has a six-foot fence and tall bushes around it. I push his chinos and underpants down his hips, freeing his cock. Finally, I tear my gaze from his so I can feast my stare on his cock. He’s leaking clear pre-cum, which I don’t hesitate to lick. It’s salty, especially compared to the overwhelming sweetness of the cake batter.

He leans against the breakfast bar and grips the edge of the counter with his hands. His breathing is a harsh, staccato rhythm. He stares at me, his eyes wide, his damp, swollen lips parted. His expression radiates surprise like he can’t believe this is happening. Like he can’t comprehend that I’m about to suck him off in the middle of his kitchen.

I grip his cock, rubbing the bottom of it while I stretch my lips wide enough to take the head. It’s heavy on my tongue. He’s a real mouthful. I lick and suck greedily. I might never get this chance again, so I’m going to damn well enjoy it.

“Cameron—”

I glance up. He tips his head back and releases a satisfied sigh-groan. I suck harder, taking his length up to my hand. I spiral the tip of my tongue over his veiny, rock-hard shaft and bob up and down, moaning to show him how good he tastes. I suck harder. Bob faster, inhaling whenever his pubes tickle my nose and chin. At first, I hold his hip, but after a while, I move my hand to cup and massage his heavy balls.

He gasps. “Oh, Cameron.” His voice is deep, throaty, and wonderfully needy. “Oh, fuck.”

I smirk around his shaft. Would he want to fuck? Or is he going to throw me out the moment this is over?

“Cameron, I?—”

I ignore his warning and suck harder. He shoots his load down my throat. The cooker timer goes off, its shrill beep filling the room while I suck him dry and then suck him some more. He pants and gasps and shudders. His knees sag. I keep sucking. Keep licking. The timer keeps beeping. I swear it’s getting louder and more irritating. Finally, I pull off his cock, rock onto my heels, and draw the back of my hand over my wet lips.

I meet his heavy-lidded stare and smile. “How was that for perfect timing? The cupcakes are ready.”

ChapterSix

Euan

Iturn the timer off. Cameron, grinning lazily, tucks my damp, flaccid cock into my underwear, pulls my chinos up, and fastens them. He stands while I turn on wobbling legs to inspect the cupcakes in the oven. They’ve risen nicely and are golden brown on top. I turn the oven off, put oven gloves on, take the cupcake trays out of the oven, and place them on heat-proof mats.

Cameron doesn’t help. Instead, he kisses my nape. The tender brushes of his lips create a chain reaction of desire within my body. Racing pulse. Thrashing heart. Fluttering stomach.

I take the oven gloves off, lean on the counter, and sigh. What have we done? I can’t take back the last few minutes, nor do I want to. I really needed the releases he just gave me. It’s been so long since anyone has sucked my cock I’d almost forgotten how good it felt. And Cameron is very skilled at fellatio. I tremble just thinking about how amazing his hot mouth felt around my cock as he sucked, licked, and stroked my aching shaft. And now he’s kissing my neck like a lover. He presses against my back, the hard bulge in his jeans against my arse reminding me that he needs release too.

“What next?” he asks between kisses.

“We—” I pant and lick my lips. I can’t think straight. To be fair, that’s probably a good thing. If I let my brain kick in, I’ll realise how foolish all this is. “We have to let them cool in the trays for a few minutes before—” His lips tickle my skin delightfully. “Before transferring them to the cooling racks.”

“I wonder why.”

“I don’t know. Maybe they’ll lose their shape if we take them out too soon.”

“I guess we should trust the recipe book.”

“Yes.”

“They smell delicious.”

So does Cameron. “Yes.”

“I wish we’d made some extra cupcakes.”

The air gets trapped in my throat. “Why?”

“For us to enjoy, covered in gooey icing. I could have peeled the case off one and fed it to you.”

An image of him straddling me, naked, feeding me a cupcake pops into my head. I groan. My cock twitches as blood pumps into it, but I’m too spent to get hard again so soon.

“This is wrong,” I whimper.

He puts his hands over mine and rests his chin on my shoulder. “Why?”

“We’re getting frisky while making cupcakes for the boys.”