His First Surrender (Stonewall Investigations Miami 3) - Page 57

Rocky’s hands softly glided up and down my ass, over my lower back. “We need to make a safe word, Sam. I want you to feel fully in control at all times. The moment one of us says it, we stop.”

I smiled, turning over so that I sat cross-legged on the bed, my cock standing stiff. Rocky was at the foot of the bed, his own erection jutting out, his tip shiny with precome. My eyes trailed up, over the V-muscles that framed his lower abs, creating a valley of dips and dives. A body I wanted to lick every goddamn inch of.

“Sam?”

“Oh sorry,” I said, shaking my head and breaking out of the trance. “You just have a way of leaving me speechless. Especially when you fully look like the Abercrombie & Fitch bags I’d jerk off to all the time. Except you actually have a face. You know how annoying it was looking at the perfect body and not have any idea of what’s going on above the jaw? Travesty.”

Rocky looked at me for a moment, his face slowly cracking before he gave a belly laugh, his dick bouncing with each guffaw.

“Those are some serious first-world problems,” Rocky said, running a hand through his hair and messing up the light brown locks. A thick strand curled across his forehead, making him somehow look adorable and Adonis-like all at once.

“So how about the safe word is Abercrombie?”

I gave him a nod, almost forgetting what had started the conversation in the first place.

Having Rocky Hudson standing there naked and hard would do that to absolutely anyone. Especially since he had one hand lazily stroking his cock.

And then I saw what was in his other hand.

“That’s a… what is that?”

“A feathered crop. The tip is a small square pad of thick leather, covered in these peacock feathers.”

“And you’re going to…”

“Get back on your fours and I’ll show you what I’m going to do.”

He held one hand open, bringing the feathered crop down onto his hand, a sharp slap sounding in the air. The devilish grin on Rocky’s face grew. His thick cock throbbed in the air, crowned by a golden bush of well-trimmed pubes. My mouth watered.

I did as he asked, getting back into position on the bed. I stroked myself as I waited for the spank. My heart beat faster and harder than before, my pulse matching the throbbing I felt through my dick. I continued to stroke myself, my ass in the air, and then I felt it. A soft tickle at first as Rocky brushed the feathers over my ass, between my cheeks.

The tickle disappeared and, seconds later, was replaced by a sharp sting as Rocky brought the crop down on my ass. I yelped, more out of surprise than from pain. Rocky still asked, concern coloring his voice, “Are you okay?”

“Very,” I said, surprised at how good it felt. “Do it again.”

Rocky rubbed the tender skin, spreading me open. He let go and brought the crop down on my other cheek. I wasn’t sure if it was my imagination or not, but this hit felt a little harder, stinging for a little longer.

It made me leak as if I’d broken a faucet. I stroked myself, milking my precome, relishing in the sting as it spread, softening into a delicious kind of warmth.

Rocky brought it back down again. The crack filled the room, blending with my cry. I pushed back again, my eyes growing wet. Rocky ran the crop up and down my sensitive flesh, the feathers brushing against me, tickling me. I dropped on the bed, giggling, hard as all fuck. Rocky, with a lustful growl, grabbed me and lifted me back up, sticking my ass back in the air.

Another crack. Another cry. My cock pulsed, my balls tightening up into my body. I was getting so close.

“God, Sam, your body is beautiful. A work of motherfucking art. This ass.” He squeezed and rubbed. “To what you’ve got hanging between your legs.” He ran a hand down my ass, between my thighs. He grabbed my length in his hand and squeezed. As he did that, he kissed my ass, his lips pressing against the sensitive skin. Softly, he kissed each spot he had spanked, all while he still held me in his hand, squeezing and stroking.

“Everything about you is perfect,” Rocky said, his voice low enough to make me think he was speaking more to himself than me.

He kept stroking me. I dropped my head, grunting, my entire body tensing up. I could feel the crest of the wave. Rocky had me chasing a high with every slow stroke of his hand.

“I’m going to come,” I said, shutting my eyes, dropping my jaw.

“Fuck yeah, blow for me, Sam.”

“That’s it, oh fuck, fuck.”

“Go, Sam. Give it to me.”

I did, unloading onto the bedsheets, my cock erupting as the orgasm hit me like a gut punch. I grunted and moaned, fisting the sheets. I couldn’t see straight or even string together a coherent sentence. The only sounds I was able to make were that of an animal’s.

Tags: Max Walker Stonewall Investigations Miami M-M Romance
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