Page 51 of Don't Say You're Sorry

As he looks down at me on my knees for him, he whispers, “Shit.”

“What is it?” I ask, licking the crease where his thigh meets his hip.

He jerks against the wall, his hand in my hair, his lip between his teeth. “If you put your mouth on my dick right now, I’m gonna come in two seconds.”

I chuckle. “Just give me a taste, okay?” Taking the base of his cock in my hand, I tease the underside with my tongue, licking him from root to tip.

His low curses fill my ears as I wrap my lips around him, sucking his precum. I’ve tasted my own cum before, so it shouldn’t feel new to me, but it does. It does because it’shiscum. The proof of what I do to him tastes even better than I thought it would.

Opening my mouth, I do what feels natural and relax my throat before taking him in. The way my scalp burns as he yanks on my hair only makes me crave more. So I take more, making myself gag and retch, my blunt nails digging into his hips as I choke myself on his cock.

“Christ, Easton,” Adam moans, his hands moving down to grab my face. “Stop.”

I stop and lick the precum and spit off my lips.

“Have you done that before?” he rasps, still holding my face as if he’s holding me back.

“No. I’ve never been with another guy, but I’ve watched a lot of videos.”

“While thinking about me?”

“Always,” I confess.Always him. Only him.

Once again, he stares at me as if he’s only just meeting me for the first time, and he doesn’t know what to make of me. Maybe I’m moving too fast with him, revealing too much, too soon. But he asked, and I’m not going to lie to him.

“Turn around.”

This time, he hesitates for a second, his hands lingering on my face before he turns. I stay on my knees and touch his lower back with my palm, pressing his body into the wall. He braces himself on his forearms and looks at me over his shoulder, his body trembling in anticipation.

“Spread your legs for me.”

He does, and I run my hands up the backs of his thighs, his tight, round ass directly in front of my face. Spreading his cheeks with my thumbs, I lean in and press my nose to his pink hole. I inhale deeply through my nose, and he gasps, jerking up onto his tiptoes. “Easton. Fuck me,” he mutters.

“I’m getting there, baby,” I joke, flicking his hole with the tip of my tongue.

He moans as I rim him, his muscles coiled tight, his hand reaching back to grab a fistful of my hair. I can’t see his face, but I can tell he’s enjoying it by the way he pushes my face into his ass, his hips rocking back to help control the pace.

When I add a finger into the mix, spitting on it before pressing the tip into his ass, he almost buckles to his knees, his forehead against the wall as he mumbles things I can’t hear over the shower.

“I want you on your back on my bed,” I say, still eating him out as I reach for the soap, washing my dick with my free hand. “Think you can be quiet?” I didn’t check what time it was before I came in here, but it’s got to be around noon, meaning our parents are definitely awake. They’re probably downstairs making Sunday dinner.

He nods frantically, and I push to my feet, pressing a kiss to the back of his neck, my hands on his waist. “I fucking love the taste of you.”

He trembles against me, tipping his head back on my shoulder. Knowing he’s raring to go, I quickly rinse off and shut the shower off, turning him to face me and guiding him back into my room. The backs of his legs hit the bed, and I push him down on his back, climbing up to kneel between his thighs. We’re dripping wet, and it’s probably going to ruin my mattress, but I couldn’t give two fucks right now. All I care about at this moment is Adam and the awed look in his eyes.

“Have you fingered yourself before?” I ask, reaching over to grab the lube I keep in my nightstand drawer.

He nods, watching my every move as I flip the cap up and pour some onto my fingers.

“While thinking about me?” I tease.

He smirks. “You and Jared Padalecki.”

I scrunch my nose. “Sam Winchester? Really?”

“Mhm.”

I shake my head, appalled. “I’m a Dean boy.”