I wave a careless hand, more focused on my dick than my words. “Not likely. I just wanted to check.” I scan his body. “Are you getting naked too?”
“I thought I might.”
“Oh, good. Is it okay if I face you, then?”
“Why?”
“Well, I want to see you.” I spread my hands as he continues to stare at me. “What? You’re very nice to look at.”
“This is the oddest encounter I’ve had with someone I met at the club. Is Fox specialising in eccentrics now?”
I snort. “Very funny.”
I scramble onto the bed and then turn to face the foot of it, looking at him enquiringly. He rolls his eyes at me, or maybe himself, and then I watch avidly as he takes his clothes off. He doesn’t go slow, but there’s also none of my own frantic haste to disrobe. His movements are graceful and methodical. He’s simply stripping off his clothes, not caring what I think. There’s no posing, and he even takes the time to fold his clothes.Somehow, this disinterest is more erotic than a deliberate show, and I lower my hand to squeeze my aching cock.
The room is quiet, apart from the rustle of fabric, and he pauses when he’s wearing only a pair of dark blue boxers. His expression is cool and contained, and it’s only when I suck in some much-needed air that I realise I’d stopped breathing. And who could blame me? Sometimes men out of their clothes don’t live up to their hype, but Cormac isn’t one of them. His body is long and lean, and his abs are defined, so he obviously works out to some extent. His shoulders are broad and his legs long. Even his feet look elegant. In fact, the whole impression you get from Cormac is one of elegance.
He strips away the boxers and my eyes latch straight onto his dick. It’s long and thick, with prominent veins, and juts from a nest of black hair that’s a startling contrast to his pale moonbeam skin. It twitches under my stare. Not so unmoved, then, I think with delight.
“You’re gorgeous,” I say in what can best be described as a reverent tone.
I look up in time to see him roll his eyes. “I bet you say that to all your customers.”
“Well, in all honesty, you’re my first, but I’d say that even if we were at the Pink Flamingo.”
“What a joyous compliment.”
He strolls towards me, and the way his muscles move under his skin is fascinating. There isn’t an ounce of spare fat on him. I frown as I notice the huge scar on his lower abdomen. It’s obviously old because it’s faded, but it’s jagged and uneven, the edges puckered. Whatever caused that it must have been incredibly painful. I look up to find him watching me. One eyebrow rises, and I hasten to clear my expression.
When he’s near enough that I can smell his cologne, he fists his cock. “Suck me,” he orders.
I grin up at him. “Aye aye, Captain.”
He grimaces, but it changes to a groan, his eyes sliding shut when I take him into my mouth. I suck greedily on the fat head, licking up the precome there. It’s salty and tart on my tongue, like kissing the sea. I lick down the length of his cock before pushing my nose into the base and inhaling his rich scent. “You smell lovely,” I say dreamily.
In response, he grabs my head and pushes me back onto his cock, grunting when his length slides into my mouth. I’m grateful when he doesn’t push it. He seems to remember my point of no return and hovers there while I suck. Spit slides out of my mouth, coating my chin and the rest of his dick, and I slide my fist over his wet skin as I suck.
I can’t help but watch him. He’s more fascinating than anyone I’ve ever done this with. I have no thought of my own pleasure, just his, which is probably a good thing, seeing as I’m being paid to do this. The idea should probably bother me, but I’m obviously incredibly contrary because this is surface-of-the-sun hot—like I’ve discovered a new kink and need to do it over and over again.
I want to see that transported look on his face again when he comes—a look I put there. I suck harder and lick across the plump crown, flirting my tongue around the stretched foreskin below. It’s red and looks painful, but his expression of bliss tells a different story. I dip my tongue into his slit and then go back to sucking hard as lowering my other hand I cup his sac. The hairy orbs are drawn tight, and I caress them, keeping my touch gentle and the suction hard.
He gasps something garbled and pulls out of my mouth with a pop. “I don’t want to finish like that,” he says.
I nod frantically. “Whatever you want.” My voice is rough from having his cock in my throat and he cups my chin, wipingthe saliva away, his eyes assessing despite the passion clouding them.
“What a good boy you are,” he says in a deep, barely audible voice.
A massive shudder passes through my body, leaving me tingling and gasping for breath. What the fuck is wrong with me that those words have me close to coming? I grab my cock and squeeze it.
His eyes sharpen. “Oh, you like that,” he says softly. “What aninterestingdevelopment. I think I’m going to fuck you hard, Wes, because you’ve been such a good boy, and you deserve it.”
“Oh god,yes. Yes, please.” I barely recognise my own voice, it’s so frantic and rough.
“Turn around. Face away from me.”
I hasten to do as he says and then choke out a startled gasp as he suddenly slaps my arse. It isn’t hard—more of a glancing flick than anything. I rear up in surprise, but then the sharp sting fades as his hand caresses my bum and rubs the sore spot. The pain morphs into a heated, silky feeling under my skin like a flame unfurling. My cock jerks, a line of precome drooling from it and hitting the bedlinen.
“Again,” I whisper with some dark, raw feeling that shocks me. I lean into his touch. I jump as his voice sounds next to my ear.
