He bucked forward and his voice cracked. “I… Miro… I haven’t even been able to get—”
“Get what,” I asked before I licked over the swollen crown, then nipped and sucked at his groin.
“Hard,” he choked out.
I grinned up at him. “I don’t think that’s an issue.”
My name spilled out of him like smooth thick honey from a squeeze bottle.
Opening my mouth, I rolled forward and took the man down the back of my throat in one long sensuously smooth motion. His hands instantly clutched at my hair, and I liked that, his loss of control.
His heavy breathing, the way it stuttered every few moments, how he couldn’t stop his hips from snapping forward, I savored every one of his reactions, but most of all the feel of him in my mouth, the weight on my tongue, his taste, his musky woodsy scent. All of it, of him: I could get addicted so very fast. When I wrapped my hand around the base of his cock and made the suction strong, licking and laving, he stopped forming words, only making deep guttural noises.
I tasted salty precum. He tried to move me, but I made the draw stronger instead.
He shivered and I purposely scraped my teeth along his thick shaft. The carnal growl of my name was sweet.
“You can’t—M!”
He spurted hot in the back of my throat, and I swallowed fast, taking it all, loving the way his lips parted and his head fell back against the wall. I didn’t let his cock slip from between my lips until there was nothing more and I had licked away every trace. He was the picture of sated lust, utterly ravished as he stood there panting, eyes narrowed to slits of blue, fly open, shirt and Henley rucked up, stubble burn on his pelvis as well as bite marks and hickeys from where I’d sucked on his skin.
When I stood up, we were eye to eye since he was slumped against the wall, still not moving. He was worrying me a little. Even though I knew he’d liked it when I was blowing him, I wasn’t so sure how he felt now.
“You should put this away, buddy,” I said softly, stepping in close to him, lifting his briefs up over his now-flaccid cock, tucking him in. “I don’t want the whole world to see you.”
“You didn’t care about that a second ago.”
I met his gaze. “No one saw your dick since it was buried down my throat, not to mention that there is no one out here in this cold but us.”
He inhaled sharply, straightened, and took my face in his hands, then slid his thumbs gently over my cheeks, beneath my eyes as he eased me forward and sealed our lips together.
His lips were soft, the kiss tender and deep as he slid his tongue over mine. One hand pushed into my short hair, his fingers tracing the curve of my skull, finally cupping the back of my head, holding me still. Compared to the frantic mauling I had given him, his movement was sensual and deliberate.
He could kiss me forever if he wanted. The languorous attention made me feel drugged as he feasted and sucked, licked and nibbled on my lips. I succumbed easily, and when he turned me, pushed me back into the wall, I let myself be moved, bumping gently into the concrete as he deepened the kiss, not letting me breathe, only taking.
His hands slipped down the sides of my neck to my shoulders, then lower to my chest, clutching at me, touching me. I was arched against him, painfully hard and needing to be stroked, when the blast of a horn startled us.
Someone drove by on the other side of the wall, obviously having gone the wrong way to get out. I noticed then that Ian’s pants were still shoved to his knees—no wonder he’d shuffled when he walked me back into the wall—so I bent and pulled them up around his hips.
“Now you’re worried about someone seeing me?” He chuckled, low and seductive.
I zipped him up, still not meeting his gaze, and slid my fingers into his pants to button them. He bucked and I framed his hips with my hands, loving the fact that he was letting me touch him like this, so intimately.
“How come you weren’t before?” he whispered, leaning forward, the huffs of breath in my ear and the sensation of the stubble on his cheek against the scratched-up skin on my face making me shiver.
I was terrified that I was dreaming. “I wasn’t thinking before.”
“Yeah?”
After I buckled his belt, he crowded close, shoved his thigh between mine, parting my legs, wedging himself tight against me.
“Look at me.”
I lifted my gaze to his and saw the apprehension there.
“Don’t go all silent.”
He was standing in front of me, clothes rumpled and hair tousled, and I could barely breathe.