“That would be a tattoo,” I drawl, earning me an eye roll.
“No shit. Who the fuck gets that tattooed on themselves?”
“Me.” I chuckle.
“Good boy?”
“I am a good boy,” I say matter-of-factly.
One night a few years back, during the band’s first tour, we all got wasted after a gig, and went to get tattoos. Don’t ask why I chose to get the words“good boy”in all capital letters, but I did.
“You are ridiculous,” he mutters before wrapping his hand around my cock again. Leaning down, he swipes his tongue across my slit, my back arching as a gasp falls from my lips.
“Fuck.” The word escapes as nothing more than a whisper, pleasure flooding my senses when he wraps his lips around the tip, tongue swirling around and around.
Rowan’s mouth is hot, throat tight. His hair is sticking up in every which way as he sinks farther down my length, my hand coming to the top of his head, fingers threading through the short pale blond strands. It’s getting a little longer from when we first got here, but it’s still barely long enough to grab. He peers up at me from beneath his long dark lashes, his thick brows pinched tight as his eyes fill up with moisture. He’s disheveled and filthy, and it only turns me on more.
Time stands still, desire seeping out of my pores as his head bobs up and down. He’s sloppy, uncaring about how it sounds or how he looks. It’s sexy as fuck. Rowan moans around my length, the sound vibrating through my cock until it settles deep in my balls. They’re tight, drawn up, ready for release. What he’s doing feeling so damn good.
He takes his time, paying my cock homage, leaving not a single inch untouched. He knows what he’s doing; this isn’t his first rodeo. His strong, skilled tongue licks a path along the underside of my shaft, flicking it teasingly once he reaches the crown. Soft, warm hands come up, cupping my balls, and rolling them in his palm. The slightest bit of pressure to them as he closes his lips around the tip of my dick makes my toes curl, eyes rolling back.
Undeniable sensation floods my system, every nerve ending lit up.
“Your mouth,” I breathe. “Fuck, I’m going to come if you don’t stop.”
Rowan pulls off, and when his gaze connects with mine, my breath catches in my throat, heart sputtering in my chest. His lips are rosy and swollen, slick with his saliva, and his cheeks are flushed, eyes nearly pitch black, the mossy green nowhere in sight.
This moment feels too intimate, the way he’s staring at me like he can see straight through me. See my every thought.
Thankfully, Rowan severs the connection when he glances away, climbing off the bed to reach into the drawer of the bedside table. A clear, unlabeled bottle is dropped onto the bed. It looks like lube, but who fucking knows with him. Ridding himself of his clothes, he climbs back on the bed as my eyes rake down his lean body. He’s pale, skin creamy smooth. I don’t see a single shred of ink anywhere, miles of untouched surface, unlike mine.
My eyes drop to his groin, the dark hair that’s trimmed short around the root. The hair is such a contrast to the top of his head, proving even further that it’s bleached. Rowan’s cock bobs under my gaze, full, pink balls hanging low. My mouth waters when he wraps an eager hand around the shaft, stroking lazily, and when I drag my attention back up to his face, I find the faintest of smirks tugging on one side of his swollen, plump lips.
My tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth as I swallow, trying to bring some moisture back to my dry throat. “Get over here,” I croak, gesturing him closer with my hand. “Let me taste you.”
Rowan’s grin intensifies as he crawls across the bed, climbing over me until he’s situated on my chest. He’s so close, I can smell the sweet sweat and his masculine musk. It washes over my body, settling in my stiff dick, the hunger in me for him growing by the second. He bites down on his bottom lip as he teases the slick tip of his cock across mine. My tongue darts out, cleaning up the mess, the salty flavor marinating along the bed of taste buds. I twirl it around his tip before shaking my head and grabbing him by the backs of his thighs.
“Not what I meant,” I mutter before scooting down on the bed until his nuts rest on my face. “There we go.Time to eat.”
The broken sound of his whimper hits my ears as soon as my tongue traces his puckered hole. He mutters a quick“fuck,”under his breath as I get to work, taking my time to lap him up. His flavor, his scent, his feel iseverywhere. It’s heady, dizzying, having all of my senses doused in all of him like this.
My hands slide up, gripping the swell of his ass, kneading the firm flesh as my mouth continues to explore his most intimate parts. His balls start to bounce against my face when he jacks himself, grinding his ass a little harder on my tongue. He’s needy and desperate, exactly how I want him.
Working one finger in, he clenches around me, gasping against the intrusion, but it doesn’t take long for him to relax. I take my time working a second digit, and then a third, into him, stretching and scissoring, making sure he’s more than prepared for what I’m about to give him.
Once I’ve got him nice and wet and open for me, I slap a hand down on his left cheek, and he seems to get the message as he slides down my body, a dazed grin on his face while he grabs the bottle from beside us.
“What is that?” I ask, already knowing the answer, but the fact that it has no label is throwing me off.
He flicks open the cap with his thumb, pouring a glob onto his fingers. “Lube,” he says plainly.
“Why does it look homemade?”
“Because it kind of is, I guess.” He says this nonchalantly as he wraps his slicked-up hand around my cock.”
“Um… explain.”
He smirks when he feels my hips thrust into his fist involuntarily. “I got it from Josiah. Apparently, the same employee on the resort side who he gets his weed, smokes, and alcohol from, also makes a THC lube.”
