Page 64 of Try Me
Closing the distance between us, I brushed my lips over his. Not the crazy-intense combustion of desire we’d had more recently—the breathless, this-has-an-expiration-date franticness saturating every touch. But slow, so that I felt the exact moment his lips parted. Felt, even, how his breath changed, the slight hitch when I flicked the tip of my tongue just inside his mouth. God, that drove me crazy. “I don’t have to,” I admitted. “Because I feel the same.”
For a moment, it was as if everything slowed down, like time had given way under the heat and was as syrupy and malleable as the humidity. I braced my hands on the window sash and pressed against Mark at the same time he looped his arms around my waist and pulled me closer. The soft moan that rumbled in his chest went straight to my balls and hardened my cock.
I wanted more. I wanted all of him. In my bed. Spread out and undone. No clock to pay attention to, no one to hide from.
I dug a hand into his waistband and yanked him away from the window.
Mark’s hands roamed all over me as I undressed him, sliding over my back, pinching my biceps, my nipples, squeezing my ass. I tugged his shirt over his head and tossed it aside, unbuttoned his jeans and worked them down his hips. We stumbled toward the bed in broken increments of kisses, and when he was close enough, I sent him sprawling onto the bedsheets, then kicked off my pants and crawled on top of him. “I wanted to kiss you that night you came down to Kacey’s dock,” I told him, cinching my knees around his sides as he grabbed my waist. He tilted his hips into my weight, hard dick grinding against my ass. “It wasn’t the first time I wanted to, but it was the first time I had trouble holding myself back.”
“So you told me to fuck off instead.”
“It seemed like a solid plan at the time.” I sucked in a steadying breath as Mark pulled the waistband of my boxers out until my cock popped free and bobbed in the air, stiff and ready. He grabbed it tight, giving it a few merciless strokes until I knocked his hand away, already sliding off the edge of the bed onto my knees. I grabbed the back of his calves and yanked him closer.
“Oh shit,” he whispered, hands flying to my temples and clenching as I teased my tongue over his swollen tip. “Oh shit.” He said it over and over as I took him deeper, tasting precum, faint musk, salt, him. All of him. I slid my fingers behind his balls to find his tight, puckered hole, and he arched with a jolt.
“Pynch,” he moaned.
My name in his mouth. My weakness. I wanted him to keep saying it in that throaty, wrecked murmur.
He twisted beneath my fingers as I rubbed over his hole, plied it with my fingertips, slicked it with the saliva running down his cock, and kept working him over until he softened up and started bucking and slamming into my mouth, still chanting a filthy incantation of curses.
“Fuck, I’m gonna—”
I pulled off and Mark’s dick stabbed the air, fingers pulling the ends of my hair.
“C’mon,” he complained, but his mouth was open and waiting for my kiss when I lowered on top of him again. I gave it to him in forceful thrusts of my tongue.
I kicked my boxers the rest of the way off and reached between us, jerking his cock without breaking the seal of our lips. The noises he made vibrated against my tongue, and I drank them down greedily.
Mark dug his fingers into my arms, dragging and pinching the skin, then nudged my chin up, lips blazing down my neck, teeth nipping, tongue soothing the sting. He was careless and rough, and I fucking adored every messy, imprecise second of it.
When I guided his hand back to my cock, he gripped it tight, stroking it just the way I liked before abandoning it for my hole and lubing it with the precum on his fingertips. Clutching my asscheeks, he surged against me, groaning and squeezing with every pass of his crown over my entrance.
“I don’t…who?” His mumbled mixture of confusion and caution almost made me laugh, but it was so genuine I held it back.
“Who what?” I bore down on his shaft, eliciting another sexy curse.
He gestured vaguely between us.
Ah.
“You wanna get inside me, Farrow?” I reached between us to circle his head with my fist as I glided along his shaft. “That what you mean? Who’ll top who?”
Mark moaned, eyes fluttering closed when I twisted my wrist. He drew in a staggered breath. “Yeah. I didn’t want to assume anything.”
“You’re not ready for me to fuck you.” It was the truth. And besides, I was burning with a need that had existed for years, with fantasies that had become scorching impetus.
“Yeah, okay.” Mark nodded, then nodded again, glassy-eyed as I reached into my drawer and pulled out lube and a condom. He drifted a hand over my thigh and shook his head when I held the wrapper up and asked, “Do I need this?”
“Only if you want me to last longer.”
I chuckled and he cursed into a kiss as I drizzled cold lube on his cock, then writhed as I warmed it with a few strokes.
“You’re gonna feel so fucking good.” I curled over, pouring the words into the shell of his ear as I reached back and rubbed the head of his cock over my entrance. In seconds, we were both worked up and breathing hard as I teased myself open with his crown.
“Too late for that condom? Because Jesus.” Mark let out another breathy sigh of appreciation as he dipped just inside me. The burn intensified as I reached for the condom, but he swatted it out of my hand with a shake of his head. “That was a joke. Sort of. I want it just like this.”
“You like it?” I eased a little lower on his dick and felt it twitch as he fought to keep his eyes from rolling back in their sockets.