“I do. I do feel the same,” he says, and my heart soars. He keeps me close, his hands on my face too, as he toes off his shoes. Then he lets go of me and walks to the couch, stripping off his shirt and tossing it to the floor. He parks himself on the sofa, stretches his arms across the back of it, then spreads his legs for me.
He’s wearing his jeans and nothing else.
And he’s waiting for me to take care of him.
Oh hell, do I want to. Do I ever want to show Dean how sorry I am.
I kick off my shoes. My mouth waters as I walk over to my man and tug off my shirt.
I climb onto his lap, my hands settling on his shoulders then traveling down his firm and muscled arms.
“Let me grovel. Let me show you how sorry I am,” I whisper, as I bend my head to his neck, kissing him there in the way that drives him wild.
“Mmm. That helps. That helps a lot,” Dean says, sinking deeper into the cushions as I trail my tongue and my lips across his neck, the way I did the first time I ever touched him.
His fingers thread into my hair, and he tugs, pulling me down.
Making his intentions so damn clear.
I smile against his body as I follow his lead, my lips sliding along his chest as I kiss a hot trail along his pecs then down to his abs.
“How about this? This help too?” I lick a line along the grooves of his abs, across, down, traveling closer to his erection.
“That’s pretty good,” he pants. “But it might help a little more like this . . .”
His hands move to his jeans, unbuttoning the top button. I slide to the floor, kneeling between his legs as I work down the zipper. “I can definitely be of assistance.”
He lifts his ass and pushes the denim down to his thighs, his fantastic cock springing free and greeting me with a very happy hello.
Dean runs a hand down his stomach, takes his cock in his fist, then rubs the crown against my lips. My eyes roll back in my head as I lick him.
“Show me how you grovel, Fitz,” he says, all rough and commanding as his other hand curls around my head, yanking me close to his dick.
“With pleasure. With so much fucking pleasure.” I wrap my lips around the head, and I groan against his length because he tastes so damn good.
I want all of him in my mouth, want him to fill me up. I want to show him that he deserves all the pleasure in the world from me, only me. So I draw him in, inch by inch, spiraling my tongue along his shaft as I go, taking him farther.
“Fuck, that’s good,” he mutters as he slides to the back of my throat.
And that’s where Dean wants to be, judging from the sounds he makes. “Show me how much you love sucking my cock,” he says, and my dick throbs in my jeans at his dirty words.
I do love sucking his cock.
So damn much.
And I show him. Sucking him hard and deep and ravenously. Letting him grab my head, pull me down on his dick, and rock his hips up against me. Letting him fuck my mouth, my face, my throat.
I suck him hard and deep because it feels so good, because it drives him wild, and because I want to let him know what I’ll do for him. That if I have to, I’ll get on my knees for him.
No. Not just because I have to. Because I want to.
Because this guy—my God, this guy is mine, and I want Dean to feel every second of pleasure in the world from me.
As I devour his length, he bucks against me, dirty words falling from his lips. “Yes, fucking yes. I fucking love that.” Then just a long, choked out, “Coming.”
He shoots into my throat, salty and intoxicating, and I savor every drop of him.
When I let go of his dick, I look up to see a very satisfied man.
He’s supremely content, his lips parted, his breath coming fast. He reaches a hand to my face, runs a thumb along my jaw, then says, “Take your cock out. I want to watch you get yourself off.”
Fire roars across my skin. I rise and strip off my jeans in seconds flat as he lies back on the couch, parking his hands behind his head, and I straddle him.
My dick is aching for relief, heavy in my hand as I grip myself. I’m close to the edge already from having him in my mouth, from him coming on my tongue.
The second I slide my hand down my length, I shudder.
I’ve never enjoyed jacking myself off more than right now, never more than when I’m looking at Dean, my hand shuttling at a fevered pace up and down my length.