Omens (The Triad 3)

“We need more alone time. I want to be inside of you,” he said as he freed my cock. “I want to feel you inside of me,” he groaned as he stroked me and licked away the precum.

Before I could say anything to agree, his mouth was on me, taking me completely into the back of his throat. I felt his throat constrict around me as he swallowed against his gag reflex, and my fingers found his hair, pulling hard on the soft strands.

“My god, Niamh,” I moaned as I felt my entire body tighten with heat and electricity. Pleasure soared through my spine, causing my hips to jerk and push my cock deeper into his throat.

His mouth was hot and wet, and every time he sucked me down, I could feel my toes curl. His tongue swirled around the tip, hitting that sensitive spot under the head while his hand moved up and down, over and over again.

“I’m going to come,” I told him as I grabbed him by the hair and pushed his mouth back onto my cock. As he sucked and moved his tongue in all the right ways, my balls tightened, and the orgasm racked through my body.

He swallowed every bit that I had to give him, and when he sat back into the seat, he grinned at me as he wiped the corners of his mouth.

“Seriously, we need more fucking alone time. I’m tired of doing this shit in a car where I don’t have the room I need to properly fuck you.”

I leaned across the seat and kissed him, tasting myself on his tongue as they tangled together.

“Soon, Niamh,” I told him, giving him one last kiss before putting myself away and getting out of the car.

He followed, adjusting himself and tossing my soiled shirt over to me. I caught it and balled it up, shoving it into my back pocket as much as I could.

“I guess I spilled sauce on it at the deli,” I told him.

“Seems plausible,” he agreed.

The door to the garage opened, causing both of us to jump as one of my many cousins came in and grabbed a set of keys. He eyed us both and then nodded a hello.

“Some of the guys are looking for you,” he said, climbing into the Porsche. “They’re in the bar room.”

“Of course they are,” Niamh mumbled as he shut the door and drove out of the garage. “What else is there to do on a Monday afternoon than drink yourself into a stupor?”

“Trust me,” I told him as we walked off towards the main house. “We’re Romani. We know how to hold our liquor. If we aren’t drinking on a Monday afternoon, that’s when you should be worried.”