Storm (Sex and Bullets 1)

I stop.

He’s still asleep. The cold compress has slid off his leg and to the floor, the ice cubes melted into a small puddle.

He’s so handsome…

A swarm of drunken butterflies divebomb inside my stomach, and my tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth at the sight of him. He has slipped down a little, one hand resting on his stomach, almost covering the red scar, his cock lying on his thigh, thick even when soft. His soft dark hair is messy, falling in his eyes. His lips are slightly parted, letting out soft puffs of breath.

My blood’s running hot in my veins, and my mouth waters. I wonder how he might taste. How fast he’ll get hard. What sounds he’ll make when I lick and suck on him.

Dammit, Ray. How am I ever going to talk coherently to him and tell him what I need to say if he short-circuits my every sense?

Doing my best not to make noise, I step closer and study his sleeping form, that muscled chest with the thorns and roses licking his sides, the powerful shoulders, the long, sinewy legs.

A scar I didn’t notice last night or this morning, busy with other things, catches my attention. It’s on his left hip, a deep gash once, now an angry red welt with the marks of stitches. It doesn’t look that old. Older than the one in his side, perhaps, but not by much.

What the hell did that to him?

My hand lifts of its own volition, hovering over the scar. I itch to touch him all over, feel those beautiful muscles under my fingertips, under my lips. Didn’t get a chance last night. He wa

s in charge, and it was smoking hot, but now he’s laid out in front of me like a buffet.

And this is all new to me. New and amazing. My handful of sexual explorations were quick one-night stands that ended before day dawned. Never got the chance to observe a guy like this, lying before me naked and gorgeous. Never got the time to think up wicked things to do to him.

Like see if I can wake him up slowly, one lick at a time. If I can make him hard before he even realizes he isn’t dreaming.

Bold move, Ray. Bold move. But, hey, live a little. Life isn’t only guns and bullets.

I grin, then bend over him and lick a path from his exposed sac to the tip of his cock. Salty. Slightly sweet. I sweep my tongue again along his length, and take him in my mouth.

His taste explodes on my tongue, more bitter than I expected, with a hint of spice. I suck on him and feel him grow, forcing my mouth wider. He’s thickening, lengthening. Hardening.

A thrill ripples through me. My breasts ache, my nipples stiffening as I mouth his growing erection. He groans deep inside his throat, his hand curling into a fist against his chest. His hips rock up a little, pushing his cock into my mouth. His lashes flutter against his cheeks, his eyes moving under the pale lids. His head rolls to the side, and he mutters something unintelligible under his breath.

He’s still swelling, already hard as steel, and he’s so big now I can’t even take half of him into my mouth. Wrapping a hand around the base, I give an experimental swirl with my tongue under the head of his cock, and he arches back, moaning out loud.

“What the...?” He’s staring down at me now, eyes wide. His hand lifts, reaching for me. “Ray?”

I move my mouth down and back up, dragging my lips over his hard shaft, my hand at the base mirroring the movement.

He hisses, and his hand lands on my head, fingers tangling in my loose hair. “Fuck…” His hips lift again, shoving more of his hard-on into my mouth, and I choke a little. He stills, but I don’t stop sucking on him, and he moans out my name. “This is… hot damn, babe. Oh yeah.”

I doubt he knows what he’s saying right now, or the way his body moves in rhythm with my motions, thighs tensing when I reach the head of his cock and play with it with my tongue.

I want to make him lose control, come in my mouth. I want to see his powerful body shaking with pleasure.

I want to shake his world like he did mine.

STORM

I’m dreaming of a pretty dark-haired girl teasing my dick. Her eyes sparkle up at me as she runs her fingers over it, stroking its length, taking it in her hand. I’m tense with need. I can feel myself hardening, and a sweet ache enters my balls. I want her to suck on my cock, to wrap those pretty lips around it.

She smiles at me, tells me something about a cat—Horatio, she says. She left her cat behind. So she’ll pet me instead. She’d like to keep me.

Yes, Goddammit, yes. Please keep me. Hold me.

Suck me, baby.

She licks her lips and bends over me, taking my cock into her mouth. Hot. So hot. My hips buck, and she sucks me in deeper, her tongue massaging the head.