The Fix Is In (Torus Intercession 4)

Rolling free of him, I got off the bed and started stripping out of my clothes as fast as I could. Apparently, this was riveting, as Benji sat up to stare.

“What’re you doing?” I snapped at him. “Take off the pants.”

Lying down, he unzipped, since the snap was already open, and shucked them down his hips to his ass, then sat up and worked them off his long legs.

“What are you doing?” he almost yelled at me, and I realized I’d stopped undressing because I was staring, entranced at Benji.

He was covered in lean chiseled muscle, there was a washboard abdomen, and his penis was long and thick and leaking drops of pearly precum that I had to taste.

I grabbed his ankles, and he gasped when I yanked him to the end of the bed, draped his knees over my shoulders, and took his cock down the back of my throat in a seamless glide it was possible he wasn’t prepared for, going by how many times he said oh God!

I sucked and laved, making the suction strong, licked him from balls to head over and over, loving the feel and taste of him on my tongue, and only lifted off when he yanked on my hair.

“If you don’t stop, I’m gonna come, and I don’t want to––”

“No,” I said flatly, taking him to the root, swallowing around his impressive length, milking him as he arched up off the bed and came hard. He jolted and bucked, and I drank it all down, letting every aftershock roll through him before I moved, licking him clean, finally letting him fall from my lips.

His eyes looked black in the low light, and I grinned down at him, finally realizing that my jeans had only gotten as far as my thighs, and my flannel shirt was mostly unbuttoned but there was still a white T-shirt under it.

“Pleased with yourself?” he said hoarsely, having yelled my name quite a bit.

“Pretty much,” I replied, still grinning at him.

His face scrunched up. “But what about you? I want you to feel good too.”

“That felt great,” I assured him, getting back up off the bed to peel out of my jeans, my socks following, and then discarding my button-down and T-shirt together, not caring that they were tangled up as I tossed them aside. “And making you come was so fuckin’ hot, I can’t wait to do it again.”

“No, it’s my turn to––”

“It’s not,” I apprised him. “This isn’t a reciprocal situation. Sex doesn’t always have to balance out. You know that.”

“Do I?”

I scoffed. “Honey, who have you been in bed with that you think that’s how it’s supposed to go?”

No answer.

“Benji?”

“I… I’m…what?”

“Are you listening to me?”

He nodded but didn’t speak, just staring at me.

“You know you’re being creepy, right?” I teased him, sinking down onto the bed and moving over to him.

“Shaw,” he whispered, “you’re the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen.”

I was going to tell him that he should get out more because deprecation was my go-to, but I kissed him instead. Taking his face in my hands, I started out gentle, letting him taste himself on my tongue, but I wanted him so badly that it took only moments before I felt the arousal push through me like a wave.

His moan was filthy as he deepened the kiss, taking me in hand at the same time, stroking me from balls to head over and over until I was hard and leaking.

“Benji, we need to go slow. I need to get you ready, because I’m not small and I don’t want to––”

“Yeah, I know you’re not small,” he ground out. “I can tell from holding you in my hand, and oh God—where’s your lube?”

There was hesitancy in most men, and more than a few women. I’d been careful all my life, but now Benji was climbing over me, rummaging around in my nightstand, and the second he had what he was after, he popped the cap and was slathering my hard, dripping cock until it glistened. I nearly came just from the thoroughness of the coating.

“You’re shivering,” he murmured, lifting up over me to notch the wide mushroom head of my cock between his cheeks.

I took hold of his hips so he couldn’t move. “It’ll kill me if I hurt you.”

“I’m not delicate,” he explained, his gaze solid on mine. “And I know myself and my body, and besides, I’m older than you.”

He didn’t look it. In clothes, he was beautiful; out of them, he was drop-dead gorgeous. All of him was sleekly muscled, burnished ivory perfection, and of course, as always, there were those eyes of his that I’d become lost in the second he looked at me.

“Let me move,” he ordered. “If you want to do something with your hands, wrap one of them around my dick.”