Page 40 of Something to Prove

I gasped for air, blinking in a daze. With his jeans lowered and his erection tenting his briefs, Ty looked like a dream. The naughty kind.

He stroked himself through the cotton barrier so the tip of his cock peeked over the elastic band. “Where’s your bedroom, Walker?”

“This way.”

I dropped my briefs in the foyer and led the way.

My bedroom was a large sunlit space with a gorgeous bay window. The walls were a soft shade of yellow, decorated with tasteful floral prints that complemented the patterned rug under the bed. It was a sweet oasis filled with books, meaningful tchotchkes, and…my cat.

Mabel sat on the fluffy duvet amid a sea of throw pillows, licking her paws, her keen gaze fixed on the stranger.

Ty took off his shoes and socks, and moved to greet her. “Hey, who’re you?”

“That’s Mabel. She’s the queen of this castle, and she’s rather feisty. Don’t be offended if she…does that.” I tilted my chin as the cat darted off the bed and out of the room.

He chuckled, lowering his jeans. “That’s okay. I’ll meet her later.”

“Only if she agrees to…”

Was I saying something? I did a double take at the impressive full-mast erection bobbing in the breeze and hurried to grab supplies from the bedside table and toss the mountain of pillows out of the way.

I held a tasseled hot-pink one in front of my johnson as I braved another glance at the godlike man in my boudoir.

I wasn’t being coy. Honestly. And I wasn’t a prude. Sex was fun and life-affirming, and with the right partner, it could feel positively transcendent. The thing was…I’d never been starkers with the intent of going all the way with anyone who looked like Ty Czerniak.

Those tattoos, those muscles, that cocky grin, and that…very large penis.

“See something you like?”

“Yes,” I grunted as I dropped the pillow onto the pile.

“Me too.” Ty gave his cock a leisurely tug. “Show me everything. Let’s start with your perfect fucking ass.”

“Mmm.”

I scrambled onto the mattress on all fours, licking my lips as Ty approached with a reverence reserved for viewing a masterpiece. He splayed his hands and spread me wide.

“Holy fuck, look at you. I’m going to touch you now. Is that okay?”

Was he serious?

I glanced over my shoulder and nodded. “Yes. Do it.”

Ty gently trailed a digit along my puckered entrance. His touch was featherlight, almost tender. I wriggled my hips and gestured to the lube nearby, but he just snickered.

“Don’t worry. We’ll get there. I just…I gotta taste you first.”

That was all the warning Ty gave before licking my hole.

Talk about a shock to the system. Dormant nerve endings zinged to life, sending a wave of pleasure through me. He did it again and again…and again. And you know, try though I might, it simply wasn’t possible to stoically accept erotic ministrations without losing a semblance of one’s cool.

I gripped the bedsheets, squeezing my eyes shut, my breath lodged in my chest as—well, there wasn’t a nicer way to put it—Ty tongue-fucked me. His beard grazed my skin, adding an unexpected element to the onslaught of sensation. It was so good. And I was so hard.

I braced my weight on my left elbow and reached for my aching cock, gliding my thumb through the precum drooling at my tip just as he slipped a finger into my hole. I flinched, willing myself to relax. He added spit and another digit, coaxing and stretching me.

“You…I…lube is—oh, wow, that’s good,” I sputtered.

Ty pulled his fingers out and used his tongue again. Let me assure you, absolutely nothing coherent left my mouth from that moment on, but the gist was, “Please, please, now. Please. More.”