More Than Everything (Family 3)

So I kept my mouth shut, because telling Chase about my background could make him change his mind about being the next notch on my belt. My silence had nothing to do with the jolt of worry about what he would think of me and whether I’d blow my chances with him. I gave myself an internal reminder that the only chance I wanted was to feel him blowing me.

“All right,” I said as I got up from my chair and yanked my shirt off. “This conversation got too serious. Let’s get naked and promise never to talk about shit that matters again.” I toed my shoes off, unbuttoned my jeans, hooked my thumbs in the waistband, and pushed my jeans and briefs down together, making my already hard dick bob. “Deal?”

Chase dragged his gaze over my chest and down my happy trail to my rigid shaft. He dropped to his knees, wrapped his fingers around my dick, and nuzzled my balls before looking up at me through heavy-lidded eyes and saying, “Deal.”

I liked to pride myself on my stamina, but I was only one beer in and Chase looked unbelievably sexy down on his knees with his mouth stretched over my cockhead. He sucked hard and then twirled his tongue around my glans, letting saliva drizzle down. The reason for that became clear when he wrapped his fingers around my shaft and jacked me while he continued sucking and licking.

Getting head was one of my favorite activities, and I wasn’t one to deny myself pleasure, so I’d received a lot of blowjobs. When Chase moved his hand down to my balls and sucked my entire dick into this mouth, I decided none of the other guys I’d been with had a clue what they were doing, because nothing and nobody had ever made me feel that good.

He cupped and rolled my balls, sucked his way up and down my dick, and somehow managed to lap his tongue against my heated skin at the same time. There was no way for me to hold back for long, not with the way he was touching me, not with those amazing blue eyes filled with lust and staring right at me, not with a symphony of his whimpers and moans mixing with crude slurping sounds filling the small space. I tangled my fingers in his soft hair and thrust my hips, slowly at first and then more quickly as my belly tightened and my orgasm approached.

“Chase!” I shouted. He increased the suction and moved his mouth faster. “Jesus fuck. You’re an amazing cocksucker. A fucking natural.”

I shoved my hips forward and stiffened just as he popped his mouth off and pumped me with his slick hand. I might have cried out his name again or I might have just grunted. The only thing I knew for certain was that my vision went black from the power of that orgasm.

By the time I was done emptying my balls, my knees were weak and my lungs hurt. The chair caught me when I stumbled back. I sat, catching my breath, and looked at Chase as he raised himself up and walked over to the sink. Though my brain was fuzzy from the force of the pleasure he’d wrung from me, I could tell from the set of his shoulders that something was wrong.

Not knowing what to say, I went with, “Thanks. That was great.”

He turned on the water, lathered and rinsed his hands, and then dried them off, all without saying a word and without looking at me. Then he took a deep breath, straightened his posture, turned around, and leaned against the counter.

“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself and I get that you’re lacking in the sensitivity department, but you call me a cocksucker again and I’m kicking your ass out no matter how hard your dick is.” He paused and glared at me. “We clear?”

I opened and closed my mouth several times, trying to figure out what to say. “I didn’t mean anything by it. It’s just dirty talk. No big deal.”

“This isn’t a porno or an alley behind a seedy bar, and I’m not a fucking hustler, Adan!” He screwed his eyes shut, took a calming breath, and wiped his hands on his pants. “All right,” he said quietly when he opened his eyes. “You got what you came for. Door’s that way.”

Somehow I’d gone from him being pissed but talking about a next time to him kicking me out right then. That probably meant I’d said the wrong thing.

“I’m sorry,” I said.

“Apology accepted.” He walked to his front door and started turning the locks.

Right, so that didn’t fix whatever I’d broken.

“I don’t want to go,” I said.

He stopped moving, his back to me and his hand on the lock. “Why not?” he asked.