Page 91 of The Hot Shot

He gives the curve of my breast a soft kiss. His voice is dark honey. “Will you let me, Chester? Will you let me fuck you?”

An incoherent needy sound leaves me. It’s enough for Finn.

Shadows shift as he rises above me, and then he moves into a shaft of lamplight. God, that body, golden and taut, I want to lick every inch of it. I need to feel it on top of me more.

He settles between my parted thighs, and he feels so hard and firm, his skin damp with sweat and emanating heat that I groan again.

“Shhh,” he whispers in my ear. His body trembles. “God, you feel so good.”

My hands glide down his back, mapping the hard terrain of his body. I need him in me. I’m so empty it aches.

But he just touches my hair, looks down at me with eyes that show too much. “You okay with this, Chester?” The tenderness in his voice wraps around my heart and squeezes. “Me going bare?” Another caress along my cheek. “I can get something.”

“No.” I lick my swollen lips. “Just you. Now.”

His lashes lower in a sweep, and then he’s staring at me as ifI’m Christmas. The round tip of his dick nudges my opening. And...

“Oh, fuck,” I moan. I feel that body move and all those muscles clenching as he pushes in, making room for himself inside me. So thick. So perfect. My sex grasps that hardness, holding on to the pleasure.

A helpless whimper breaks the silence. It is Finn.

Pausing halfway in, Finn braces himself on his elbows, his breath harsh. “Okay?”

Okay? I lift my hips, spreading my thighs wider. “More.”

“Oh, fuck yes,” he groans. One firm push and he’s balls deep, so big it hurts.

I want the pain. “More. More.”

Filthy words tumble from his mouth as he starts to move, giving me what I want.

But it isn’t fast. It’s slow and savoring. Finn works me as if he’s memorizing every damn second of it. And I love it.

“Talk to me,” he pleads, moving in a slow, steady fuck.

“Talk?” I can barely think. My world is a heavy glide of muscles and cock.

“Your voice,” he says. “Pure fucking sex. Love it.”

What this man does to me. I cup the sides of his damp neck, kiss my way along his jaw. “I love your cock.”

He trembles. “Yeah?”

“The first time I saw it, I imagined...”

Finn stills, pulsing inside me. “What? Tell me.”

“Sucking it.”

He groans deep, rocks against me. Sweat trickles down his temple. His breath is heat at my ear. “Fuck. More. Tell me more. How would you suck it, Chess?”

Slow shivers dance over my skin. “I’d put it in my mouth when it’s still soft. Feel it grow hard as I sucked it.”

“Oh, fuck.” He pounds into me—three hard thrusts that hit so deep I grunt each time—before he slows, deliberately draggingthat thick, glorious cock of his in and out in that same evilly steady rhythm. His cheek nudges mine. “Then what?”

“I’d want you writhing while I sucked you off. You’d lie there and take it, clutching the sheets, almost whimpering as I’d pull on your dick with my mouth.” God, I want that.

“Jesus.” He shivers, dips his head lower. Soft lips brush my shoulder. His voice is a deep rumble. “You gonna tie me up?”