Wrath (Sinful Secrets 4)

I suck once more, gentle, and ease him out of my mouth.

“Not yet,” I rasp. I wet my finger again, and when it’s dripping and he’s started rubbing his own dick, peeking his eyes open to find out why I stopped the party, I pull his cheeks apart. I trace around his hole, just teasing, making an effort to jostle his balls around.

Then I bring my finger up to my mouth and spit one more time, to be sure it’s nice and slick.

“I didn’t—”

I glance at him.

“I didn’t do…whatever people do,” he says. “To clean out.”

I smile at how red his face is. “Just one finger, Millsy. I’ll get to your sweet spot but I can’t get too deep. We’re okay. You ready?”

I’m gonna fucking come from this, I swear—I’m so close.

He nods, spreading his knees wider for me. My balls ache like I just got kicked.

“Okay, good boy. Relax for me.”

I prod at him, pushing gently, and I can feel him loosen up to take me. I push straight in, firm but careful. I don’t know what happens, but I guess I get his prostate the second my finger’s all the way in.

Miller groans and twitches. I see cum spill from his cockhead. Then his body shudders, he barks out a moan, and he comes so damn hard—a cum eruption all over himself and my wrist.

When his eyes flip open, he looks startled, wowed, amused, then wowed again. I laugh and he laughs, and then I lean down and lap some off his dick.

He jerks, and I realize maybe it’s too sensitive for me to do that. I lick a little off his hip, and then I stand up, drop my shorts and boxers, take the boxers off, then pull my shorts back up and crouch back down so I can clean him with my boxers.

“Fucking porn star shit,” I grin, wiping damn near all the real estate between his navel and his quads.

He looks almost frightened as he peers up at me. “Dude. What did you do?”

His alarmed face—the blue eyes and the freckles, and this little curl of hair on his forehead. I can’t help a soft laugh. “I think I got your prostate. On the first try.”

“You just…touched it with your finger like that?”

I laugh again, because I honestly don’t know. “I guess. What did it feel like?” I swallow as his face transforms again, this time into reverence.

“It was like…a bullet out of…heaven. Like this hot, flushed, supercharged good feeling, going all down through me. Even up. Like magic. Not like jerking off. It was good the other times you messed with me, but this.” He widens his eyes. “Have you done it to yourself? This isn’t like the time I used my finger,” he confesses softly.

“Your eyes are so wide.” I lean back down and kiss the soft skin of his inner thigh. Then I lift my head so he can see me. “You’re such a prize. You know that?” I rub my hand over his leg, gripping it lightly just so he knows whose he is. “That’s why Arnie wants you. Everyone who knows you is gonna want you. You’re the perfect package, Miller.” I smirk, but my throat aches as I look down at him. “I worry I messed you up,” I manage hoarsely.

He pushes up on his elbow. “Why? What do you mean?”

I pull his underwear up for him. I don’t know if I can look at him right now, so I need something to keep busy.

Miller lifts his backside to draw the briefs over his ass, and I grab his shorts from around his knees, tugging them up, too.

“You know,” I say, soon as I can find my fucking raspy voice. “That shit I said…back when I was being a prick.” I swallow hard and make myself look back up at him. “I hate that I said that dumb shit to you. I was…scared.” I cover my eyes with my hand, in case a rogue tear slips out. I feel sick with regret when I think about that. I’d do anything to take it back.

I uncover my eyes, biting on the inside of my cheek to keep my voice from cracking. “Anyone who acts like that because they’re scared is selfish and a coward. And not good enough for you, dude.”

This one stupid tear spills. I wipe it and start to get to my feet, but Miller’s on me. His arms lock around my waist.

“Ez,” he whispers, hugging me tight. “Even after everything, you still think I need to be warned off? Like a damsel at the ball or something?”

I laugh. “No.” More tears leak out and drip. “Not like a damsel. Like a prince.”

Miller scoots in closer, hugging me so damn tight.

“You saying I’m a prince? I can’t be the prince, Ezra. Because you are. I’m a freckled farm boy, best case.” He lifts his head. He’s close enough to kiss. His blue eyes seem to burn right through me.