Winning With Him (Men of Summer 2)

Then I clamp down nice and tight, vacuum-sealing his dick in my mouth. I suck hard like that, rocking up and down on his erection with wild abandon, my hands braced on the couch, my body poised above him.

Sucking Grant off is a heady, mind-bending experience, and it always has been, but it’s even better tonight.

Because I’m here.

We’re not living on borrowed time.

We can sixty-nine tonight, and screw tomorrow, and we can jerk each other the next night if we want.

The images flash hot and bright before my eyes. I shudder, my stomach knotting with need as he sucks me deep, as I piston my hips into his face.

He grips my ass harder, hugs me tighter, squeezes my flesh with those big strong hands. The way he wraps his arms around my ass and jerks me deeper tells me my man wants his face fucked.

I rock and thrust my hips, finding a rhythm for my dick in his mouth, right as I bring his where it belongs—deep in my throat. The sound of a cap opening registers but then falls away. I swallow his cock, lavishing all the attention in the world to his throbbing shaft.

I can’t get enough of the way Grant smells. Both musky and clean, with a hint of manly sweat. He’s everything I crave. I drop his dick from my mouth to slide my nose in the crease between his thighs. “Ah,” I groan, getting a nice big hit of him. His scent jumbles my brain.

But . . . his mouth on me fries all my senses.

Kicks them into overdrive, sends blood pumping to my dick, my balls, and oh hello, my ass.

Grant Blackwood is a sneaky lover.

As he suctions my cock to the back of his throat, he presses a lubed finger against my hole.

A full-body tremble shudders through me. “Yes. Fucking yes,” I growl while he sucks me deep, working that finger at the same time.

Just so.

Sliding in another, he crooks both fingers, going all come-hither in my ass, while my dick is wiggling and dancing around in his mouth.

I’m not going to last.

Nope.

Not at all.

I drop my head farther between his thighs, giving in to the wild bliss running rampant in my cells. “Yes, babe. Gonna come. Gonna come so hard.”

I fuck his face, grind against his fingers, and grip his thighs, until a growl rips from my chest. All the pleasure in the world coils tight inside me, then I detonate down his throat.

I unleash an orgasm that feels like a force of nature. Like a Category 5 storm. “Goddamn,” I grunt, my face in his crotch, my nose inhaling the sexiest man I’ve ever smelled, as I come so hard.

Shuddering everywhere.

Hell, my body is shaking and may be for days as I pant and moan.

Then I laugh when my shaft becomes too sensitive. Grant slides off my cock, his fingers easing out.

The second he’s free, he gives an order: “Lie down. Open your mouth wide.”

Well, then.

I scurry off him, move to the other end of the couch, and park a pillow behind my head. “Give it to me.”

My sexy, naked, sweaty boyfriend prowls over me, a feral look in his blue eyes. When he reaches my chest, he straddles my shoulders, grips his cock, and slides a fist down his thick, glistening length, still wet from my saliva.

I don’t just part my lips. I open all the way. And he fills me.

He braces one hand on the back of the couch, his biceps and forearms rippling as he pumps his hips. I open wider, take him deeper, savor the taste of his arousal.

“Look at you. Taking me all the way. Sucking me so hard,” Grant grunts. “Love your mouth. Love your tongue.”

I urge him on with my hands, squeezing harder, making carnal sounds as I devour him.

“So good,” he growls, his eyes slamming shut, his features twisting. Then he stills. Cries out, “Coming.”

His taste floods my tongue, the flavors sending a heat wave over my body. I growl as I drink down my man’s essence, savoring every second of his release, of his moans, of his gasps.

Then, he slides out of my mouth, moves down my body, and sinks on top of me, chest to chest. “Wow,” Grant whispers. “You are just wow.”

He’s repeated my words back to me from more than five years ago.

I run my fingers through his hair; it’s sweaty around the ends. I press a kiss to his forehead then whisper against his face, “Or maybe we are.”

Grinning softly, he wriggles closer, wrapping himself around me. Arms, legs, hands, chests. We are tangled. “Don’t go anywhere,” he murmurs.

“I’m pretty sure you’re stuck with me.”

“Excellent. Especially now that you’re getting addicted to my Wonderland Amusement Park.”

I laugh, running my fingers through his hair once more. “Getting addicted?” I snort. “I’m afraid there’s no getting. It’s happened. I’ve done it.”