Page 182 of The Hopelessly Bromantic Duet
“Yes!”
He doesn’t stop shouting. Or panting. Or crying out. And that’s good because I will choke for real in fifteen more seconds. I need his lift-off, stat.
I drag a finger against the spit spilling down my chin, then push my finger into his hole. An animalistic groan rips from his chest as his climax floods my throat. His entire body shakes. When I’ve sucked him dry, I drop him from my mouth, coughing as I catch my breath.
Jude moans and gasps. He still hasn’t come down from his high as I stretch across the bed to his nightstand. I grab the lube then shove off my jeans. My dick’s aching, and I have to come fucking soon. Straddling his stomach, I lube up my hand.
Jude blinks. Seems to reconnect with reality. Then unleashes the most wicked grin as he stares at me. “Come all over me. Been dying to watch you get off.”
“Then here’s your wish, baby,” I say, my voice rough from the abuse.
Grabbing my dick, I stroke fast and furiously. This won’t take me long at all. Several hard jerks later, my balls tighten.
“You’re so fucking sexy.” He grunts as I squeeze the tip on an upstroke. “So fucking hot.”
His praise makes me go faster. My hand’s a blur on my shaft. And my guy is a ravenous beast, rasping out an order: “Come on my face.”
My blood roars.
He parts his lips, licks them salaciously.
I slide up Jude’s body, straddling his shoulders, and give him what he asked for with one final twist of my wrist. Pleasure annihilates me. It seizes my cells as I unload on his gorgeous movie-star face, painting his lips and chin with my release. It’s filthy and possessive all at once. I’m marking him, and he wants to be claimed at the same damn time.
As the aftershocks rocket through me, he licks my climax off his lips then wipes the rest onto his fingers, sucking each one.
I shudder.
There’s never been anything sexier in the entire world than Jude Fox licking my orgasm off his fingers.
I dip my head to him, our foreheads pressing together as we breathe out hard. My lips find his. I taste me on him. We kiss slow and hungry, both sated and exhausted. Then I head to the bathroom, straighten up, and wet a washcloth.
Back in his bedroom, I clean his face and his chest. He smiles so damn contentedly. I drop another kiss to his lush lips, then I take the cloth to the laundry closet and set it in a basket full of dirty towels.
When I return, I flop next to Jude and sigh happily. “That was?—”
“Yeah, it was.”
He echoes my unfinished thoughts.
Will he be on the same page, though, with the other things I want to do in bed? Like switching it up with me someday? Back in Los Angeles, I wanted to ask, but I never found the chance. I take the opportunity now. “I’ve got a long list of things I want to do with you,” I tell him, my voice still raspy.
Slowly, he shifts his body toward me, his eyes intrigued. “Like a sex list?”
“Yes,” I say, my chest heating as I picture all the sex we can have.
“What’s on it?” He sounds enrapt.
“Well,” I say, my fingers tracing the grooves of his abs like I can find my confidence there, “pretty much everything.”
“Mmm. I like everything,” he murmurs, then dips his face to mine, presses a soft kiss to my lips. When he pulls back, he says, “Tell me more.”
This shouldn’t be hard to say. But it’s tough for a guy who’s obsessed with control. So I talk around it. “Things I want you to do to me. That sort of everything.”
A sexy smile spreads nice and easy on his lips. “Everything with you sounds good to me.”
“Yeah?” I ask, excitement and arousal pinging through my cells.
“Really fucking good, TJ.”