Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 84533 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 423(@200wpm)___ 338(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84533 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 423(@200wpm)___ 338(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
I shoved to my feet and ripped off my clothes too. All these pieces of me he was taking…I hadn’t known I had the ability to give. The short time we had known each other didn’t matter, only our connection did, the deep-rooted feeling inside me that said Cyrus belonged to me.
He dropped to his knees in front of me, hand around the base of my cock, and sucked it into his mouth. I hissed, ran my fingers through his soft hair while he bobbed on my dick. It had been so long since I’d felt this—a hot, wet mouth on my prick—and Cyrus’s was skilled, and perfect, and God, I could live in this moment, dick in his throat, forever.
He pulled off and kissed my balls, looked up at me as he lapped at them. I pushed my glans against his lips again, watching him take me like the perfect boy he was. I didn’t know how I would stand to lose this, how I would survive once he left.
Cyrus sucked in his cheeks, savoring me. I could see how much he liked this, how much he wanted to be good for me, how it seemed to give him a sort of peace too.
I thrust gently between his lips in a way I hadn’t done in a long time. Everything with Bruce was rough and hard, and while I loved that, this was incredible too.
I wanted him to swallow my cum, wanted to shoot it on his pretty face, every inch of his body, because he was mine and I wanted the evidence on him and in him.
I snapped my hips forward. Cyrus groaned hungrily around me, making noises like he was ravenous for me as he took me to the back of his throat over and over and over again. He choked on me, gaze telling me he needed more. My hand fisted in his hair, and I gave it to him. Was there anything in this world I wouldn’t give this man? I didn’t think there was.
He jacked himself off while I fucked into his mouth, and the second I saw him shoot, my balls drew up and released, spurt after spurt filling him. Cyrus took down every drop.
My little lamb continued to suck me, nursed on my erection, eyes pleading. I sat down, and he wiggled between my legs, cheek against my thigh, and just…kept me in his mouth, sometimes sucking, sometimes not, like he wouldn’t be content if he didn’t have me inside him.
I petted his head, found the map I’d made in his freckles, and this time, traced it with my finger. He needed care, my little lamb. He needed to feel wanted and comforted, and something about me did that for him. He inhaled deeply, breathing me in like he had done with my underwear the night before.
“You’ll sleep in my bed,” I told him. I couldn’t have him in the other room. Even though I tried to pretend it was because I didn’t trust him, that if he was in my bed, I’d know his every move or if he tried to get up and do something, it was really because I wanted him close. That was a truth I silently accepted.
He smiled around my cock.
And I think…I think I smiled too because something I’d done made him happy.
I picked up my book, opened again to the first page, and read to him while he sucked me. We sat like that for hours. When he started to fall asleep, I woke him and told him it was time for bed.
Cyrus watched while I locked up and turned off the lights, then went with me to my bed. I stiffened when he wrapped an arm around me, tried to cuddle close. This would take some getting used to, and I doubted I’d get much sleep tonight.
“I’ve never done that,” Cyrus said. “The cock-warming thing. I’ve fucked a lot of men, too many men, but I didn’t want them that way.”
I smiled into the dark as Cyrus fell asleep.
It was a restless night for me. Every time he moved, I woke up, but I didn’t regret it. I thought I might need it as much as he did.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Cyrus
Crow was stiff when I woke up the next morning. I hated that I’d made him uncomfortable, so I mumbled, “Sorry,” and tried to pull away. He held on, yet he didn’t relax, as if his body and mind were at odds, part of him wanting me close, the other struggling with it.
He didn’t speak, and though I wished he would, I’d accepted that Crow would always be quieter than most. But he tried, and that’s all I cared about. Trying was what mattered.
We lay there for a few minutes before I told him I had to pee. We went into the bathroom together, took care of business, then brushed our teeth. We showered together and then got dressed.