“Should have been my mouth on you, not his,” Tristan rumbled, not able to let go of the fact that he had been the one to suggest the threesome in the first place. Grabbing Dylan’s cock, he started pumping the thick length as he trailed kisses down his chest. He toed off his shoes and kept stroking Dylan from tip to base, loving the sounds Dylan made at his touch. Tristan sucked and nipped the skin under Dylan’s belly button then buried his nose in Dylan’s neatly trimmed groin, inhaling deeply. He loved the smell of a man, but Dylan’s scent made him dizzy with need. The need to know him, protect him, the need to taste him. He slid his hands up Dylan’s thighs and toyed with his balls. When his lips closed around Dylan’s cock, he thought he’d be bucked off the sofa.
“Jesus, I love your mouth,” Dylan gasped when Tristan swallowed him whole. At that, he lifted his eyes and saw Dylan’s head propped up on a couch cushion, watching him, his gaze darkened with desire. He licked around the swollen head, keeping eye contact, then deep-throated him on the next try. That was all it took for Dylan to thread his fingers through Tristan’s hair and begin to move. His hips rolled, creating a rhythm all his own. Tristan let him. He concentrated on breathing as Dylan fucked his mouth. Dylan’s hips arched forward over and over, strong fingers gripped tightly in his hair.
“Oh, fuck!” Dylan’s thrusts became erratic. A burst of pre-come hit his tongue, and he sucked the cock deeper. He used one hand to squeeze the base of Dylan’s dick hard, to keep him from coming, the other tugged at Dylan’s sac as he pressed his tongue into the small weeping slit, slowing him down but teasing him to madness.
“Aghh, please…” Dylan begged.
Tristan released the hold he had on the base of Dylan’s cock, opened his jaw, and took him to the back of his throat. He moaned at every thrust of Dylan’s hips.
Dylan murmured some indecipherable language and plunged in one last time, then tried to quickly pull out. Tristan sank his fingers into Dylan’s hips and held him in place. Dylan’s cry filled the room and Tristan swallowed around the pulsing dick as salty release filled his mouth.
“Mmm, that was…amazing.” Tristan ran his tongue up the underside of Dylan’s cock, cleaning him before he slid up Dylan’s body. He lowered his mouth, but hesitated. The intense look in Dylan’s eyes didn’t prepare him for when Dylan rose to lick the last of his come off Tristan’s lips in a move so damn sexy Tristan’s ass clenched and his cock began to leak.
“I’m in trouble…” Dylan mumbled, closing his eyes, his breathing returning to normal.
“That you are. I think we both are. Come to bed with me.” From the first time he’d laid eyes on Dylan, he thought the man might be trouble. Now that he’d had a taste, he was positive he was already in too deep.
The blow job had completely relaxed him, but also sobered him up. He’d been completely turned on. Now, his body hummed, so warm and tranquil. He remembered parts of the evening, some things were hazy, but he couldn’t forget the feel of Tristan’s mouth on him. Other parts he’d just as soon forget. What had he been thinking? There had been another man with them on the couch. His eyes popped open and he looked around the room, but Julian was nowhere to be found. He let out a breath as relief hit him hard.
Apparently he was a vanilla kind of guy after all. He wanted his sex one-on-one, even with alcohol involved.
“Come to bed,” Tristan said, leaning over him again. There was a smile there in Tristan’s eyes too, and Tristan softly palmed his face before leaning in to kiss his lips.
“He’s gone for good?” Dylan asked, feeling confused. He reached up, holding Tristan right there by the back of the neck. His fingers slid through the short ends of Tristan’s hair.
“Sent him packing before we got started, but you were too busy mauling me to notice.” Tristan laughed, probably at Dylan’s visible relief when his shoulders relaxed, and kissed him lightly.
“Thank you,” he said, smiling back. “Will Julian be mad at you?”
“No, it’s not like that, we have an arrangement. We both know the deal. Come on. Let’s go to bed,” Tristan said, pulling Dylan up.
“So this thing between you and Julian isn’t serious?” he asked as he reluctantly stood. His head swam and his knees were weak, but that was more orgasm-related than alcohol-induced.
“Not even a little.” Tristan left him standing beside the couch and ducked behind the bar to grab a water bottle.
“I need some of that,” Dylan said, shoving his fingers through his hair as he walked toward the bar on unsteady feet. Tristan took another long swallow before handing the half empty bottle to Dylan. He drank the water down.
“Want another shot?” Tristan asked.
“No. I know you don’t believe it, but I don’t actually drink,” Dylan said, taking a step back as Tristan rounded the corner.
“That’s pretty unbelievable. You didn’t wince at the Jäger.” Tristan hooked an arm around Dylan’s waist, drawing them together so Tristan’s hard-on pressed against his stomach.
“You didn’t come?” he asked, reaching lower, running his palm against Tristan’s arousal.
“No, but I’m getting mine. You promised when I sent Julian away.” That set Dylan’s stomach roiling. Uncertainty filled him. He’d been clear he wasn’t ready. “Stop the worrying. If you don’t want it, just say the word, but you said you’d trust me, remember?”
“I did.” Dylan bit his lip.
“You’re a grown-ass man, but when I see you bite your lip like that, words like adorable pop into my head,” Tristan teased.
“I’m not adorable.” The attempt at levity worked though, and his body settled down at the prospect of the unknown.
“You know, you kind of are,” Tristan said with a wink. His hands slipped to Dylan’s waist, pushing him back a few steps.