Page 50 of Alphas Like Us

Pull my weight.Meaning, mutual ejaculation. We always both come unless we run out of time. Then we fight to be the one to shoot a load. Usually by flipping acoin.

That won’tchange.

Andthis…

Thisis why I love the fuck out of him. Why he just fits with me. He’s not giving me any slack or reprieves for being hurt—except for one blowjob. I like that push-and-pull and to work for that affection. Not just someone lying down and offering themselves tome.

I also love giving head. And he’d say he loves giving it more thanme.

His mouth brushes my flesh, his eyes on my eyes. “You’resmiling.”

I feel my grin. “What can I say? Assholes turn me on. Metaphorical andliteral.”

“Me too.” His broad hand slides down my other leg. “Only I love the tight-laced assholes. Metaphorical andliteral.”

Fuckme.

I lean back, my muscles contracting. The sheer idea of Farrow’s mouth wrapped around me in a hospital room makes me come undone. He’s my boyfriend, and there’s no NDA needed, no pre-planning or precautions. No worry that he’ll steal my clothes or myphone.

Public sex was never anything I could indulge in, andnow…

His hand drives towards the hem of the hospital gown while his mouth works up my other thigh. His lips trace the faint scar from a four-year-old wound. A cut that hestitched.

As his eyes flit to me, I see that long-ago memory in them. Where he was twenty-four.

I was nineteen. At Harvard. Struggling. And he made my life easier, better—he was a comfort that I couldn’t quite grasp until I let myself. Until he letme.

Now he’s twenty-eight and on his knees for me. I know, I know, his mouth should be around my cock bynow.

“Stop teasing, man,” I say in a heavybreath.

Farrow lifts his head, his earring swaying, and he slowly, slowly—agonizingly slow—rolls up the thin blue fabric. Stopping short of my rock-harderection.

I groan. “Farrow.” I rub my thigh, trying not to give myself a hand job when his mouth isbetter.

Farrow nips my thigh with his teeth. Heat blisters in my veins, and high-speed mechanical beeping pitches theair.

His eyes meet mineagain.

We’re both highly aware that we were just in a car crash together. Where I broke my collarbone. And I’m in a sling and hooked up to a fuckingmachine.

But maybe that’s why this ishappening.

Because we need the distraction. Because being with each other, right now, feels like the calm inside a storm. Sometimes it’s just nice to feelgood.

And sex—it feels really damngood.

Farrow frees my dick, wrapping his tattooed hand around me, and his tongue laps up pre-cum that drips off the tip—fuck.

I buck towards him, and he pulls back, a smile playing at hislips.

“Easy,” he tells me coolly. Like I’m tooeager.

Goddamn. I root my left hand to the back of his head, my fingers lost in his dyed hair. “You’re a giant cock tease,” I tellhim.

“And you love getting your cock teased.”Yes.

“Maybe,” I sayflatly.