Cyrus (The Henchmen MC 9)

Cy kept working me, wave after wave, dragging it out, intensifying it.

Then, finally, when my body slackened, he kissed the triangle above my sex, and moved to sit back on his heels, looking down at me with hungry eyes as he reached up to pull off his shirt.

It was impossible, truly, to get turned back on as quickly as I did. But there was no denying it as my eyes raked over his chest, his abs, the adonis belt muscles that disappeared into his jeans, the small trail of hair that did the same. His hands came into view, working the button and zip before he was scooting back off the bed, letting his pants drop.

There was, ah, no hiding his cock - hard, long, straining against his black boxer briefs, making me need to press my thighs together as a pulsation started again, a deep, primal urge for fulfillment.

"Reese," Cy's voice called somehow softly, but full of the grit that was male desire. My eyes drifted a bit guiltily back up, realizing I had been staring, and also that I was just laying there all exposed myself, then self-consciously folding up so that my arms were around my knees.

"Yeah?" I asked, seeing the molten desire in his eyes, feeling a similar fire inside me growing by the moment.

He moved around the side of the bed, reaching out to run his fingers down my arm. "This too fast?" he asked after a long moment.

Too fast?

Warp speed wouldn't be fast enough to put an end to the desire that was threatening to burn me up from the inside out.

But I had no words - at least, no words that I could force my brain and tongue to work in unison to bring forth.

Instead, I released my legs, scooting toward the edge of the mattress, spreading them around the sides of his body, as my hands moved up to run down his abs, fascinated by the way they seemed to tense under my touch. I snagged the material of his boxer briefs, pulling them down, my belly tightening a bit in a mix of anticipation and maybe the tiniest twinge of uncertainty.

It had been so long since I had gone down on a man.

And, well, it had never been a man with the kind of experience Cyrus had.

Enthusiasm trumps expertise.

I read that in an online poll about oral sex once.

I was choosing to take those words to heart.

Because as his cock was exposed - hard, thick, long, and straining, as my sex clenched painfully with the idea of him buried deep inside - well, there wasn't a woman on Earth more enthusiastic than me right then.

"Ree, you don't have..."

Have to?

No.

But, for maybe the first time ever, I truly wanted to. Not out of obligation; not out of the desire for reciprocation; not because it was simply what was done.

No.

This was different.

Every bit of me was anticipating it as I curled my hand around his hard length, taking in the hot, oddly soft skin as I stroked it to the hilt, then leaned forward to run my tongue over the head, lapping up the silky bead of precum already waiting.

If there was any trace of lingering doubt in me, it disappeared as a shudder wracked its way through Cy's body at the contact.

My mouth opened, taking in the head as my tongue continued to work it for a moment, before sucking him deep, getting a thrill at the outward hiss of his breath as his hand landed at the back of my neck.

That was all the encouragement I needed.

My mouth and hand worked him enthusiastically, relentlessly, as my free hand moved down to stroke over his balls, feeling him getting harder still inside my mouth as I sucked him, wanting to give him at least an ounce of the pleasure he had given me.

But before I could do that, his hand was pulling at my hair, dragging me backward until his cock was no longer in my mouth, a realization that was met with a small grumble from me.

"Another time," he promised, his finger stroking down my cheek. "But right now, angel, I need to be inside you."

As if remembering its own desires, my sex started pulsing with that need as well.

So when he scooted my hips back so he could climb up as well, I moved all the way back, laying flat as his body came over mine. His lips claimed mine as his hand reached into the nightstand that separated both beds, shuffling a bit before coming back with a telltale crinkle, making me realize he had found time to stash those there for convenience in case of this inevitability.

Forethought shouldn't have been sexy, but in that moment, as my legs spread around his hips and he pushed back to slide the condom on to protect us, it totally, totally was.