Page 26 of Catching Kyle (Football Heartthrobs #1)

Kyle Weaver

When Michael opens my bathroom door, he’s wearing one of my navy towels around his waist, his torso completely bare.

His dark body hair creates a thick line from his waist to his belly button, from there to his chest and then flared out onto his pecs.

He’s got a toned belly with some muscle lines, and I just want to squeeze him and press my face into him, getting his natural scent all over me.

He approaches the bed, and neither of us say a word. He leans against it but doesn’t get any closer.

I raise my hand to stroke just above his waist. “Are you sure you still want to do this?”

He looks over me. I’m shirtless, but I still have my pants on. I wanted Michael to take them off.

He meets my eyes and nods.

“Good. And Michael? I’m glad you came back.”

With that, he leans down into the bed and kisses me on the forehead, then my nose. He exhales a warm breath over to my ear, and I have to hold myself from physically convulsing.

“I came back because I think I trust you,” he whispers into my ear. “I want to give us a try.” He pulls away and strokes my hair. “Not just this,” he says, gesturing to the bed. “But us. Dating. A relationship. ”

I reach my thumb up and stroke is beard. “That’s what I want too. And thank you.”

“For what?” he asks.

I clear my throat. “For not taking advantage of me last week. I didn’t realize it, but I wasn’t ready to do anything then. It’s very big of you to wait for me.”

He kisses me gently on the lips. “It’s what you deserve,” he says.

Deserve . My hand strokes his hairy chest, the other one his beard. I deserve this. Love. Intimacy. I don’t need to jump through hoops to make it happen with a woman. I can get it right now. With a beautiful and kind man.

And that’s when he falls into me, but I can’t tell who went first: me pulling him down or him falling into me. But it doesn’t matter. I wrap my arms around his strong back and squeeze him against me, our lips melting together. He straddles me, loosening the towel around his waist.

I buck up into him, and his ass presses down against my already rock-hard cock. God, I can’t wait to be in between those cheeks. I’ve seen others grab hold of them while they ride him, but I can’t wait to feel them for myself.

I reach down to his waist to pull off his towel. “May I?” I ask.

But then he grabs both of my wrists and pins them above my head.

I look at him, bug-eyed, almost startled. He’s got some strength in him—not more than me, of course. But still.

He settles himself onto my dick, and I can’t help but groan. I need my pants off now.

“There we go,” he says. “You’ve wanted this for a while, haven’t you?”

I nod, and I try to hold it back, but a whimper comes out. He rubs himself against me again, and I swear I’m going cross-eyed.

“I’ll tell you what’s going to happen,” he says, lowering one hand to stroke my hair. His voice is hypnotically low. The only time I’ve heard him talk this way in his videos is when he takes full control.

“You’re gonna fuck me, and then you’re gonna give me a load I know you’ve been saving just for me,” he says. “Understood? ”

I nod, warm chills going up and down my body. My stomach is fluttering like it has a horde of butterflies inside. How does he know that I’ve dreamed about this moment for years?

“And then you’re getting me off,” I say.

“God, yes,” I say. I try to wiggle my arms free, but he’s got his whole weight pressed down on them. I could resist, but I don’t want to hurt him.

He lets my hands go, trailing his finger down my arms. He takes his time when he reaches my chest, my stomach. And when I hear the clink of my belt buckle, my throat goes dry.

He rubs his ginger-bearded face against my cock still in my pants like a dog, and I nearly yip like one. Then he pulls open my pants, revealing my spire of pleasure to the room. There’s a shine of precum off the top, reflected by my lamps, and Michael marvels at it.

“God, that’s bigger than I’m used to,” he says, licking his lips. “Fucking pipe for a dick. It’s more perfect than I imagined.”

“Show me you really mean it,” I mutter.

And Lord almighty does he.

And he doesn’t just put his mouth around it and suck it mindlessly.

He takes his precious time, as if I’m the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted.

He uses his whole tongue to lick it up and down.

He spits on it, both of us watching his saliva drip down, and then he laps it up as if it’s been made divine for having touched my dick.

Tired of my pants, he yanks them off and tosses them aside.

Then he wraps his hand around the base, engulfs the top half with his beautiful face, and gets to sucking.

I swear I see stars as he’s going. I’ve never felt anything like this, not from any woman or guy from Miss U.

And it’s not because women can’t do something like this.

I think it’s because he’s Michael, and I’m Kyle, and this is what we’re meant to be doing.

Or something. I don’t know. I’m not thinking straight because all the blood from my brain has gone straight to my dick.

I glance down at him, and his towel’s fallen off.

His gorgeous ass sticks into the air, begging for me .

“My god,” I say, marveling at his ass, the first time I’ve seen it in the flesh. “You have me so close.”

He releases his grip on me and gently laps at it with his tongue. “We can’t have that, can we?”

He crawls up me. To kiss, I presume. Part of me hesitates.

He was just sucking my dick. But by the time he reaches me, pressing his lips to mine is all I want.

We sloppily kiss each other, almost like I’m trying to taste myself on his tongue.

God, I must be a pervert or something. Because this is so fucking hot.

“The lube?” He asks.

I nod and reach over to the dresser. I grab it with one hand, but he’s lifted my other arm into the air, revealing my sweaty, hairy pit to the room.

And then he presses his face into it.

I grab his mullet and pull him away. “I haven’t showered since this morning,” I say. “I stink.”

He rolls his eyes. “That’s the point, Kyle.” He removes my hand from his hair. “I want to smell you . Not your deodorant or your cologne. You.”

He presses his nose into my pit and takes the biggest whiff. And then he exhales, moaning in ecstasy.

My dick, somehow, gets harder. This is supposed to be weird. But Goddamn. I fucking love it.

Michael rubs his face into my pits, sniffing and licking like he’s been in a desert all day and I’m his water.

Watching him, I use one hand to get some lube onto my hands and apply it to my dick.

Michael notices what I’m doing, then reaches over to squeeze lube onto my hand.

Then he pulls my hand past my dick right to his ass.

The ass I’ve been wanting for years.

“This is what you want?” I ask, rubbing some of the lube on the surface of his hole.

He bucks and nods vigorously, still rubbing his face into my pit.

Mimicking what I’ve seen in porn before and my memories of Jeremy, I stick a finger inside. He stops his licking and moans audibly.

But I can’t help but frown. “I didn’t say you to stop,” I say .

“Sorry,” he says, getting back to my armpit, more vigorous than ever. It’s like I’m his air and he can’t breathe enough of me in.

I grab him by his mullet and pull him away from my armpit. “What did I say about apologies?”

He’s about to say sorry again, but he stops himself, staring at me imploringly.

I stare at his beautiful face, his beard disheveled from rubbing himself against me for so long. “I know you said you were in charge,” I say. “But I think the tables have turned to me this time.”

I press into his asshole deeper, and he tries to buck, but I hold his hair to keep him in place.

“Yes, sir,” he says, and that sends an electrical current down my spine.

“Keep calling me sir,” I say gruffly.

He nods as much as he can with me holding him. “Yes, sir.”

“Good boy,” I say, parroting what I’ve heard in his videos before. I don’t know what else to call him, but it feels right. And clearly, Michael loves it too. Because his back is arched higher than before, and he’s pushing himself back into my finger.

“Get back to it,” I command. And he goes back to sniffing and licking my armpit, moaning in delight.

Once I think he’s got enough lube on him, I apply some more to my dick. And that’s when I think I’m ready.

“I want you to sit on it,” I say.

With gusto, he removes himself from my pit and straddles me. Then without my help, he guides my dick to his hole.

“You sure you—”

“Are you ready—”

With both interrupt each other, then laugh.

“Yes, I want this,” I say. “Do you still?”

“Yes,” he says, nodding.

He guides my shaft to his hole, then slides the tip in. Pleasure rings throughout my body .

“God almighty,” I say, as his hole slowly engulfs my dick. “You feel—Christ that’s good.”

He grimaces for a moment, taking my girth, then relaxes and smirks. “Looks like the tables have turned again.”

I let out a shaky laugh, the tightness of his hole making me dizzy. “That’s what you think—gnah,”

He lifts himself up, then presses himself down as deep as he can. He stretches upward like a cat, and both of us moan in pleasure as my dick reaches the deepest part of him.

He looks down, and I stare up at him, defeated.

“Yeah,” I admit. “You’ve got me beat.”

He grabs both of my pecs like handles. “Doesn’t surprise me.”

I furrow my brow. “Surprise? Ahhhh.”

He cuts me off with another buck of his ass, but I can’t complain.

“Let me take it from here,” he says.

And I couldn’t even protest if I wanted.

Michael raises his ass up and down, using my chest as his handles. My pleasure is so great I have to clench my fists to keep myself from cumming. I can’t let myself go that fast.

He gazes deep into my eyes, and I surprise myself by staring right back. In the past, I’ve usually looked away or had my eyes shut during sex, especially with women. I needed to conjure my own fantasies to get off.

But I don’t even think I’m blinking. There’s not a drop of Michael I want to miss.

He lowers his face to me, still fucking himself with my dick. When he’s just above my face, we both hit an angle that makes pleasure shoot through my body like lightning.

“Oh my god,” I say, wrapping my arms around his shoulders. I pull him down onto me, adding to his own force. “Don’t you stop.”

He smiles and presses his lips against mine. Then he doubles his speed, and I nearly lose my breath.

“I’m gonna suck that load right out of you, Kyle Weaver,” he rasps out .

“Oh man,” I say, euphoric heat blazing in my groin. “I can’t hold it back.”

He kisses me deep, his tongue searching my mouth.

And then I explode into him, practically wailing into his mouth. And the climax itself feels like an eternity. I shake, my fingers digging into his shoulders, pressing him as far down onto me as I can. I want to make sure every bit of me is inside him.

He pulls away and wipes away some of my sweat-soaked hair off my forehead. I take a deep breath and take in all the musk in the room. Damn, we made the room stink.

Michael slides himself off and then burrows himself into my side. I wrap my arm around him and stroke his belly.

“I’ll give you a little break,” he says. “But it’s my turn now.”

I rub my tired eyes, feeling like I just had a brutal workout even though Michael did most of the work. He starts kissing my chest, then nuzzles my armpit again, making my dick jump.

“You’re insatiable,” I say, kissing his forehead. “Whore.”

He pulls back, his face stoic.

“I’m sorry,” I say. “It just came out. I—”

“Sh,” he says, pressing his finger to my lips. “No apologies. Remember?”

I chuckle, lowering his hand and kissing his knuckles.

“I’m a whore for you, Kyle.”

I grin. “Prove it.”