Page 60 of King of Pain (Damaged Hearts #1)

I let my hands trace up the outsides of his thighs, feeling the twitch of muscle beneath my fingers, the anticipation in every inch of him. I hook my fingers into the waistband and begin to tug them down—slowly, carefully, teasingly.

Inch after glorious inch comes into view and I swear, it just keeps going.

Finally, it pops free to say hello, staring me down like a challenge—because it is.

Like everything else about him, it’s beautiful and bigger than life.

Long. Thick. Impossibly perfect. I stare for a second, completely in awe.

“My God, Ant.”

His gasps lightly and I watch his throat bob, swallowing over a lump of what must be nerves and lust. My hand moves on instinct, wrapping around the base, just to feel the girth and the heat of him.

He shudders at the touch, and I glance up, catching the fire in his eyes—the way he’s looking at me as if I’m the only thing tethering him to this moment.

I shift forward, unable to wait a second longer. I press my lips to his skin, just above his hip, and feel him tense.

We’re both trembling.

Ant’s eyes flare as I lean back.

I open my mouth, stick out my tongue, and let the head of his cock rest on it—just to get a taste. To feel the weight of it.

A drop of precum hits my tongue.

I groan, pulling back to savor it, swallowing it down like the first sip of something I’ve been parched for far too long. Memorizing it.

Ant doesn't mutter a word.

I pop the head into my mouth and start to suck, slow and steady, taking a little more with every pull. I’m not sure even my deep throat skills can handle this goliath, but I volunteer as tribute.

Ant gasps above me, the sound shooting straight through to the base of my spine.

I pop off his dick momentarily, grab both of his hands, and guide them to my head.

“Grab hold of my hair,” I whisper, looking up at him. “And take me for a ride.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. His fingers tangle into my hair, tugging just enough to make me groan as he pulls me back onto him.

I anchor myself by reaching around him, landing both hands on his perfect bubble ass. I groan again, the vibration dragging another gasp out of him.

“Oh fuck, moan on my cock again,” he pants. “That feels amazing.”

I pull back so only the head is in my mouth and look up at him through my lashes.

And I moan.

“Holy shit,” he shouts. “You were right, I’m not gonna last, baby.”

Hearing him call me that with his cock stuffed in my mouth sends me into a dick-sucking frenzy. I take him as far back as I can, eyes watering as he invades my throat.

Hands tightening in my hair and a shout of Oh my God are the only warning I get before he comes down my throat. I grip his ass cheeks for balance and swallow every drop happily.

When I finally pull off, panting, I look up at him through wet eyes. He’s come undone. Absolutely undone. And it’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.

I lick the corner of my mouth, catching the stray trail I couldn’t quite swallow.

His gaze drops to my crotch, and before I can catch my breath, Ant’s yanking me up off my knees.

“I want to see you,” he says, breathless, already dropping to his knees in front of me.

“Hey,” I start, my voice dick rasped. “You don’t have to do anything, Ant. We can take it slow. I don’t know what you’re comfortable with after everything you’ve been through.”

He gives me an appreciative smile and grabs hold of the button on my jeans. “I know. And I’m not ready to do what you just did. But I need to see you.”

I nod.

He finishes unbuttoning my jeans, pulling the zipper down slowly before working the damp denim over my hips and struggles with pulling them down when they’re only about halfway down my ass. He leans back on his haunches, his hands roaming over my thighs.

“Jesus,” he mutters. “That ass. I can’t even get your pants down.”

I throw my head back and laugh.

“If you had any idea how many times your lower body was the star of my dreams…”

I can’t even manage a response. I’m a little breathless with him on his knees in front of me talking about my body.

“Just my lower body, huh?”

He smirks up at me. “Eh, your face is okay, too.”

I snicker and run my hands through his nearly dry hair. He gives me a shy smile and starts to pull my boxer briefs down. “Seriously, these thighs. How do you even get dressed?”

He slides them down to meet my jeans, shaking his head in disbelief as my dick springs out, hard and demanding.

I roll my eyes, about to respond, but he’s staring—staring like I’m some kind of marvel he can’t believe is real.

“Fuck,” he breathes. “You’re stunning, Chance. You say I’m big, but you’re not much smaller. It’s thick as fuck, too.”

And then, without warning, he spits into his palm, reaches up, and wraps his hand around my cock. He starts stroking me, eyes wild with wonderment.

Oh, fuck-fuck-fuck-fuck!

His hands are on me and I’m not going to survive it. “Beautiful, I’m not going to last thirty more seconds. I’ve wanted this for too long.”

“Then come for me, Chance,” he says, smiling up at me. “Come on my chest. Mark my skin like I marked your throat.”

That does it. Staring into his eyes I spill onto his chest. Rope after rope hits his beautiful skin and my brain sounds like a skipping record, repeating mine-mine-mine until I’m spent.

When it’s over—when I’ve all but melted under his touch—he looks down at his chest, swirls his fingers through the mess I left there, and sweeps it over to his left pec, rubbing it into the wing tattoo over his heart.

“That’s where you belong,” he says, eyes coming back to meet mine.

A fire ignites in my soul at his words, and I pull him up, slam my mouth to his, and kiss him deeply. I smile against his lips.

“Stay with me tonight.”

He nods against my forehead. “Okay. I’ll just text Aunt Lexi that her nephew is staying overnight.”

I laugh and step back. “I’m going to grab a bottle of water. Need one?”

I kick off my wet jeans, and start to pull my much drier underwear back up, when I hear:

“Nuh-uh. No you don’t, mister.”

I freeze, looking at him.

“I’ve waited years to see that ass in its full glory and I still haven’t seen it. Take those all the way off,” he says, snapping the waistband, “and walk to the kitchen.”

I snicker, peeling the offending underwear off… and fling them straight at his head. “You really are an ass man, aren’t you?”

He nods aggressively.

I tap a finger to my chin, then back up slowly towards the kitchen, making a show of it, my spent dick swinging.

“Chance Sullivan, if you don’t turn around right this—”

I spin mid-step and saunter toward the fridge.

Behind me, Ant groans, “Jesus fuck, it’s even better than I fantasized. Wait—is that a four-leaf clover on your left ass cheek?”

I throw him a smirk over my shoulder and wink.

He fires back with a blinding smile and says, “Lucky me. ”