He pulls me closer, planting tiny kisses along my neck as he speaks. The contact sends my skin into a frenzy. “I thought about having you on my bike. Sitting behind me with your arms wrapped around my waist. The thought of your hard cock pressed against my back was more than enough to make my mind wander.” He brushes the back of his fingers over my nipple, which is already hard thanks to his words, then drags them down my stomach, teasing the waistband of my jeans.
My breath catches in my throat. “So, you want to screw on your bike?” The thought sounds dangerous but erotic.
“Screwing and biking are two of my favorite things, it only makes sense to combine them.” He nuzzles my neck.
“Pig.” I give him a playful but firm shove, which barely moves him an inch.
He takes the bag off my shoulder and carries it down the hall toward his bedroom, leaving me no choice but to follow. “We’ve been through this already. You like when I talk dirty to you.”
“You seem so convinced the key to getting in my pants is to talk dirty.”
“Into your pants? No. Getting you hard? Yes.” He drops my bag at the foot of the bed and reaches for my wrist, tugging me forward so I’m pinned against the frame. “And I really like it when you’re hard.”
His hand connects with my back and gives me a slight push, urging me to bend at the waist so my chest hits the mattress. Then he moves in behind me, tugging my pants down so I can step out of them. A deep breath fills my lungs, and I release it in slow spurts.
“Red lace,” he murmurs as he runs his hands over my ass cheeks. “I fucking love red.”
“Do you?” I crane my head over my shoulder to watch him teasing me with heated amber eyes.
“It’s the color of my riding suit." He purrs as he starts rubbing my hole, pressing the panties into it. "My lucky color." Then he slides them off and tosses them toward a duffel bag in the corner of the room.
“That’s not my bag.”
“I know. It’s mine.”
“You have some sort of fetish for men’s underwear?” I gasp as he gives my ass a little smack.
“If they’re red.”
I grind against his hand as he soothes the sting. “Give the black ones back, then.”
“No.” He smacks me again, just hard enough to have my cock grinding against the bed, pulling a soft moan from my throat, which he echoes with one of his own as he massages away the burn. “I need those to wrap around my dick when I’m on the road and have to jerk off.”
Holy hell. I swear that image nearly makes me come.
“Why keep the red, then?” Closing my eyes at the building sensation, I pant through ragged breaths as he breaches my entrance withslick fingers—when did he grab lube—gently pumping and scissoring them to open me up.
“For competitions. I’ll put them in my jumpsuit for luck.”
“I expected you to say you’d put them on your face while you touch your junk.” I huff out a laugh that turns to a blissful groan when he brushes my prostate.
“Gimme another pair and I will.” He nudges that bundle of nerves with one hand while giving my balls a firm tug with the other, my body rocking back and forth to chase his touch. “White this time. Or blue. I like both.”
Somewhere in the back of my mind I realize I must be depraved, or sick, to find that image so appealing. But just as he knew it would, it makes me unbelievably hard. So much so, I’d be embarrassed by the way I’m practically humping the bed in search of friction if I didn’t feel his length rubbing the back of my thigh each time I rock backward.
This is exactly what I needed, a sexy man and a little sinful indulgence.
My mind quiets as my body goes weightless, lost to the euphoric sensation of hands pushing and pulling and probing my most intimate places. Axel’s touch borders on voracious, as if he can’t get enough, yet it’s not rushed or aggressive, justthorough. And calculated, if the release he denies me is any indication.
Each time he brings me to the brink, he backs off before I can finish, and though I’m tempted to berate him for that, I have to admit my body enjoys being toyed with. My cock is weeping, my balls are heavier than they’ve ever been, and my body as a whole seems to be vibrating at a higher frequency than I thought possible. Five stars for foreplay.
I’m floating on pleasure overload when the tension on my prostate eases and I hear a zipper, then a foil wrapper, which Axel must openwith his teeth since he never takes his fingers off my sac. Something about him rubbing my nuts brings me back to his earlier comments.
“Did you ask for blue to relieve your blue balls?”
“I asked for blue since your ass looked so good in your blue jeans. But I’ll take any color you give me. I’ll take them all.” He spreads my cheeks and notches himself at my entrance.
“If you take them all, what am I supposed to wear?” I hold my breath, wondering how he’ll respond to my attempt to bait him.
