Worship (On My Knees Duet Book 1), Page 3

  I watch his hand smooth repeatedly over his cock, which is pointed toward the hemline of his soft pants. He’s breathing heavy, just from what he’s doing to himself. He’s breathing heavy at the thought of what the two of us could do together.

  When he steps closer, my eyes shut of their own accord. I stand statue still while he unbuttons my shorts—as if my inaction makes me blameless. Then he reaches inside, pulling the elastic of my briefs away from my abs, and I groan as his big, warm hand closes around the head of my cock. With his other hand, he reaches into his pants and starts stroking himself.

  His fist tightens around my shaft. “So big.” His lips are curved into a smirk. I can see his nipples through the cotton of his borrowed shirt.

  As he’s working me, I feel my balls draw up and my cock swell tighter, like I might come in his hand right here and now. I take a step back, and he lets me go. I can’t help picking up where he left off, though—stroking myself.

  “I know you want it.” His murmured voice is low and rough with need. He puts a hand on my shoulder and walks me back against the fridge. Then he rubs his cock against mine as he drags his stubble-sharpened cheek against my smooth one and leans down to kiss my throat.

  His mouth is hard. The kisses hurt. Chills crawl over my skin. I can’t help a low groan.

  “I’ve been wanting to do that all night.” He kisses under my jaw, but it’s more bite this time. Oh God, I can’t help it—I go for his erection, pushing his hand aside so I can stroke it. He takes his pants down as I work him.

  Whoa. He’s perfect. Long and hard, with nice, heavy balls and a suckable, plum-shaped head. He’s watching me watch him. He’s grinning. “You like that?”

  “Yes.”

  His hands make quick work of my pants and briefs, pushing both down to my knees so he can rub his dick against mine.

  I moan as my balls firm up and precum beads at my tip. His free hand comes down to cup my sac. He rolls gently, and I swallow a groan.

  “I like these,” he whispers. “Nothing better than a big cock with big balls.”

  His eyes hold mine. His gaze is heady with desire. Seeing how much he wants me makes me want to bend him over here and now and have my way with him.

  Then his lips are pressed hard over mine, his tongue sliding into my mouth. We’re kissing, and it’s like nothing I’ve felt before. His lips, his teeth, his body, his sex—all so hard, so hot. He rolls his hips so our erections rub. His hand captures them both, pressing our tips together. I can’t stop groaning. I reach for his hair, pulling him closer, and he grunts as his hand strokes me.

  Our kisses grow more frantic, our hands flying over each other. I feel like my body’s on fast-forward. My mind’s a fog. Dark pleasure gathers low down in my belly. I can feel his building, too. His sex thickens and swells until it’s pointing toward his navel.

  When I catch his eyes on my face, his mouth bent into a crooked smile, I drop down on my knees in front of him.

  “Grip the counter, Vance.” He leans over me and does just that—and I suck him into my mouth. Oh, God. I trace my tongue around the rim of his tip, and I feel his legs sway.

  “Oh yeah…”

  I run my fingertips over his swollen balls and wrap my tongue around his cockhead. I inhale slowly and then take as much of him as I can. I feel a tremor in his strong thighs.

  “Ahh fuck.” His hand grips my hair. I swallow him a little deeper, and he tugs my hair. “Oh fuck.” I suck him harder, pressing my cheeks around him until he’s groaning. I think of what I like—of what I would like—and give him another suck, stroking his warm balls as I run my tongue around his tip.

  It’s a strange sensation: my throat so full I’m almost gagging, my wet mouth melded around his cock. He’s hard and smooth all at once. He feels so long—too long. Every time I take him deep, I have to swallow slowly. Tears of strain well in my eyes.

  Even as I struggle with him, my own cock grows tighter, harder, heavier. I throb each time he does, shared momentum making me thrust my hips in time with his.

  His hand slips from the counter and clutches my forehead as I ease his dick partway out and swallow it back down again. I tighten my mouth around the base of him—or somewhere near the base; he’s so long, I don’t think I’ve got him all in my mouth—and he yanks my hair.

  “Aghh.”

  “You like that?” The words are hums that prompt a guttural groan from him. And then I feel him swell. He’s moaning like he’s close to losing it, his hand gripping the back of my neck.

  I inhale through my nose and move my head back and forth, sucking and then pressing my lips snugly around him, flicking my tongue around his tip until his hands are yanking my hair and he’s moaning like he’s in pain.

  “Oh God…fuck.”

  I rub my tongue into his soft slit, and I think I taste him. Oh God, I’m close, too. I roll his balls as my own throb, and he starts thrusting. Even though it hurts—tears stream from my eyes—I imagine his mouth sucking me, too, and I’m worried I might come before he does.

  That thought makes me groan, which makes my mouth vibrate around him. Vance barks out a sound of pain—although I know it’s pleasure.

  Then he tries to pull away. I swallow him back down.

  “Fuckkk.”

  He wraps my head against his hips. Then his cock swells sharply, and I’m sucking as he blows down my throat. When I’ve taken everything, I ease him to the floor, flicking my tongue around the rim of his head before I lift my face and find his mouth open in wonder.

  “Holy shit.” He pulls me up against him, ravaging my mouth, speaking between the mash of our lips. “That was goddamn magic.”

  His palm cups my balls, and I’m panting like a dog, it feels so good.

  “That’s right. That got you good and ready, didn’t it? It does me, too.”

  While he teases my balls, his other hand caresses my slick cockhead, stroking the moisture firmly up and down my shaft. I can’t help groaning. Grunting.

  “Fuck…”

  “That’s right. I know how to play this big dick.” His thumb tweaks something atop the tip of me that makes me jump. “You’re wet.” I feel him paint the slick precum along my rim. I lock my jaw, trying to swallow a moan. “One of my favorite things—when a big, strong man like you leaks for me.”

  I can’t find words, can only groan.

  He growls softly in reply, and I can feel it in him: something snaps. He leans over, face-planting in my lap. He strokes my thighs and licks my sac and laves my cock with his tongue. My palm rubs his hair, my fingers shaking too much to even tug the locks as he sucks my cock into his mouth, swallowing with expertise until I’m lodged inside the velvet warmth of his throat.

  He sucks like a machine. He blows me like an assault. I’m on my back as my hips thrust and my spread legs tremble. Wrapped in his tongue, sucked into the thrall of his hot mouth, I can’t quiet the desperate moans that escape my throat.

  “Oh God…” Stop. But he takes me deeper, and I thrust twice—hard—before realizing what I’m doing.

  “Shit. Ahhh…AGHHHH.” Like a felled animal, I writhe away from him. His mouth sucks harder as his calloused hands squeeze my hips. And all at once, I blow.

  No warning.

  Vance Rayne swallows slow and steady. My eyes open to find his warm gaze on my face, and after that, I can’t stop watching. His mouth releases me just when it starts to feel too much, and he looks like he’s been through it. His lips are swollen, the skin around his mouth red. I stroke the redness, laughing from adrenaline.

  He leans forward to nip at my chin and press his soft, firm lips against my cheek. “That was amazing,” he rasps.

  “Thank you.” I try to swallow, but suddenly my throat feels thick and tight. My eyes are hot.

  He leans back on his haunches, revealing he’s hard again. He smiles, palming himself. My stomach slow rolls as my own cock twitches. Then he’s leaning back over to me.

  His lips brush my temple. “You sme
ll good.”

  He moves into a crouch, and I watch as he puts his clothes on. He hands me mine, stroking a fingertip over my abs before he stands.

  “Let’s have some of that skull-splitting scotch of yours, yeah?”

  I put my underwear and pants back on. I get the bottle, and we walk onto the deck.

  Three

  Vance

  The moon has gone behind the clouds, so when we step outside, it’s darker, cooler than it was before. He walks ahead of me, the bottle swinging from his fingers as he leads us to the vinyl-covered benches near the back of the boat.

  He sits at the end of one. I eye the bench across from it, but I don’t want the space between us. I sit on his bench, a few feet down, giving him some breathing room. His chest is pumping sort of fast. His hand fists the bottle’s neck. His gaze meets mine for half a second, but he’s quiet…wide-eyed.

  “You okay, my man?” His jaw is hard as his hand covers his eyes. I let a moment pass. “You scared of gay stuff?”

  He shakes his head. I scoot close enough so I can drape an arm around his shoulders. Yeah…he’s breathing hard. I get a weird, tight feeling in my stomach as my hand rubs over his warm nape. “It’s all right.”

  He nods.

  “I wanted it. Did you?”

  He nods.

  “So we’re good, yeah?”

  He nods again, but he won’t look at me. I try to think of what I like to do after I fuck around with someone new. “You got a cigarette?”

  He rubs a hand back through his hair, and then, with his fingers bent around his brow so I can’t see his eyes, he shakes his head. “Got a joint.” His voice is rough and low.

  “Let’s blaze it.”

  He gets up, head down, eyes averted as he steps across the sitting area. There’s a box that looks like a large cooler. He opens and closes it before returning to sit by me—no closer but no farther than before—and I watch his hands as he lights a joint. The rolling paper flares orange-red at the tip as he inhales.

  Fuck, he’s sexy. His bulky, muscled body is perfection, and that hair…I like the rusty gold of it. Makes him look angelic. With that troubled face, like a tortured angel.

  He passes the joint to me, and I hit it, wondering if it’ll pump my dick up even more or have the opposite effect. I hold the smoke in my lungs…exhale slowly. Within a few seconds, I can feel my eyelids droop a little, feel the tension in my shoulders lessen. I give him a smile and a hoarse laugh.

  “I was wanting that since you fixed my head.” High confession.

  His eyes are dark, unreadable. He still won’t look right at me. From the side, I think he looks a little dazed.

  “Where are you from?” I ask him. “What’s your name?”

  I take another hit and pass the joint to him. His eyes dodge mine as he takes it. When he doesn’t answer, my chest tightens.

  “Doesn’t matter. I don’t care. Just want to make you feel better.” After a second, I say, “If it bothers you—wanting my dick—it’s probably not your fault.”

  I watch his stony face as he inhales. He looks like a Hollywood guy, I realize, like a leading man. He shuts his eyes, and I have to stop myself from leaning in and kissing his mouth. If he had a pussy, I’d do it. I fucking know he’d like it. But when I’m with guys—when I’m with guys who might not ID as gay or even bi or pan—I change the game…for their sake. Try to take things slower. Usually, anyway.

  He passes the joint back. Our fingers brush. I catch his eyes. This time, his gaze stays on my face as I inhale. My cock’s half hard and growing as he watches me. My head spins pleasantly. I exhale and lean against the bench’s back, cupping the joint in my hand.

  “I’m from Brooklyn. And I’m depraved. That’s why it doesn’t bother me. When I was younger—dumb as hell—we’d have these parties. Orgies.” I grin briefly, shaking my head. “Anyway, I liked it all. Wanted it all.”

  He offers nothing in return, and pulls his gaze down to the deck. I pass the joint to him again, and this time, I can tell he’s careful not to brush my fingers.

  His eyes shut on the inhale. When he’s ready to pass back, he holds it out for me without lifting his lids.

  “I was engaged,” I tell him, taking it. “Just for a few months. She broke things off. It surprised me, even though I guess maybe it shouldn’t have. Anyway, she paid for this trip. Told me to have fun. So I’ve been fucking my way through the Caymans. Mostly women. It’s riskier with a guy, you know?”

  He holds his head, and then he’s breathing hard again.

  I scoot a little closer. “What can I do, man?”

  He shakes his head.

  Wait a second— “Are you married?”

  “No.” The word is hard. One of his hands is kneading his knee like he’s trying to hurt himself.

  “Good.” I’m not going to be some asshole’s sidepiece. Not even for one night. My mom was a mistress—my dad’s mistress. I saw what that shit did to her.

  I inhale slowly. Let it out. If guy won’t bite on the conversation bait, I guess I’ve gotta keep casting the line. I try again. “Your parents around?”

  After how tight-lipped he’s been, I don’t expect an answer, so I’m surprised when he rasps, “My mom.”

  I press my lips together, and I see him looking at me out of the corner of his eye. “I wish mine was.” I swallow hard. “Cancer…three years ago.”

  He lifts his head, looking at me carefully. I can see the compassion in his eyes as he murmurs, “I’m sorry.”

  I’m surprised to find I can’t speak for a second.

  “Sorry,” he says again, quieter this time. He scoots slightly closer to me. I hand him the joint. He lights it again, then passes it to me without inhaling. I take a long drag, lean my head against the back of the bench as I blow the smoke up at the black sky.

  Then he’s kissing me. His lips are hard and firm. His hand grasps my hair, and he moves so he’s straddling my hips. He kisses me more deeply as he rocks his bulge against mine. I groan, and he reaches down to rub me, to position his cock so it’s pushing on mine.

  “Fuck…”

  He grips my nape and brushes kisses over my forehead, traces his mouth down to my temple, holding my jaw as I open for him and his tongue glides back inside.

  He reaches between us again as we kiss, cupping my balls.

  I break into his shorts, aiming to knock him off his game and get him groaning for me again. I fucking love it when my hand on his cock makes his mouth falter on mine.

  I bite at his jawline as his hand delves into my pants. He grips me like my cock is his possession, working me with an expert hand—and for a while we’re kissing, long and languid as we pump each other harder, faster.

  When he breaks away, I’m throbbing so damn good. I brace myself for him to ghost on me, so I’m surprised when he sloughs off his pants and briefs. His erection springs up toward his navel as he leans over to rid me of the same. Afterward, his big hand encircles my tip, squeezing as he looks at me with heavy-lidded eyes. They look liquid as he leans down to kiss my thick tip.

  Then he’s half on top of me again, rubbing our cocks together, smoothing precum down my shaft. His or mine, I wonder hazily. With his free hand, he rolls my balls before leaning down and licking his way around my sac.

  His tongue delves behind it—

  “Ahh.” It’s been years since I’ve felt someone’s mouth there. My hips buck as his tongue laves, and I moan, gripping his hair. His hot mouth rims me till I’m leaking from my cock’s slit. He trails a fingertip down my shaft…rubs a circle over my taint.

  Then his other hand starts beating me.

  “Oh fuck.”

  I think he chuckles, but I’m lost to the hot throb that he’s inciting with his fingertips—two of them prodding there behind my balls. He traces my hole, and I’m so worked up, I push against him. His hand on my cock slows, and his eyes fly to mine. While his hand still pumps my cock, I take the other one and suck his finger…get it nice and wet
and bring it back behind my sac. He rubs. I shift my hips, and he’s right there again, his finger heavy on my hole. His eyes are on mine.

  “Harder.”

  Something hoarse breaks from his throat as I take his thick finger. I can’t help the ragged groan that rents the night air.

  He pushes slowly deeper, filling me so deep I grunt and rock against his hand. His free hand, gone still for a moment, squeezes my cockhead. He leans down to lick a drop of precum off me, and I lift my hips…but I can’t tell which way to thrust. He’s got me both ways.

  I’m panting now, groaning as his finger fills me and he slides it out. His big hand works my cock—pounding it, then slowing so I’m groaning for more. His finger pushes back in, and I feel the brash, electric pleasure as he grazes my prostate.

  “Shit.” I gasp as bliss swells through me, radiating outward from deep inside. My cock swells up thick and hard, and my balls tighten as he grazes there again.

  “Oh God.”

  I can’t stop the sounds I’m making or the way my legs spread. I’m lifting my hips, my fingers clenching air as I moan. I feel his hand working my cockhead again, feel how achy-hard my balls are. Every time his finger grazes my p-spot, I’m damn near yelling. When he pulls his finger out, I thrust my swollen cock into his grasping hand.

  “Ahhh, fuck. Ah fuck, fuck…” I push back onto his thick finger, grunting and then thrusting as cum drips down my shaft. I’m gonna blow, I’m gonna fucking blow— but right then he slows the hand job, using my own spend to lube up my hole before he pushes another finger in.

  I shout. He gives a low laugh. “That’s right. Feels like heaven, doesn’t it?”

  His palm caresses my cockhead. He works my shaft like he’s milking me, and the precum fucking gushes. My fists are clenched so hard they hurt as I groan, muscles quaking as he fucks me two ways at once. Pleasure swells and fills me like a balloon close to bursting.

  He speeds up the hand job as he fingers my hole, and I feel another violent rush of satisfaction as my balls tauten for liftoff and my tortured cock throbs.

  “Gonna come,” I grunt out.