Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 104802 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 524(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 349(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104802 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 524(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 349(@300wpm)
I’m surprised when it’s him pushing me backward, our lips not parting, each of us taking what we need out of the kiss until the back of my knees hit the bed. I fall onto it, pulling Ollie with me, and he ravages my mouth, my hands sliding up and down his back, pushing under his shirt to touch his smooth, warm skin.
He was willing to stand up to Tiernan for me.
He was willing to put himself at risk for me.
Fuck, I can’t get over how that makes me feel.
I growl when he pulls his mouth away from mine, glasses askew. “I wasn’t done kissing you.” Has kissing ever tasted so good? Felt so good?
“I want to suck your cock. Please,” he begs on a soft whimper filled with need.
“Fuck, what are you doing to me?” I tangle my fingers through his hair, tug him down for another claiming kiss. “Look at you, my dirty boy is back. You want to suck my dick?”
“Yes. God yes. I’ve been dying for it since last night.”
“Me too,” I admit. “Do it. Let me feel your sexy mouth around my dick. You have the most perfect cock-sucking lips.”
Ollie slides down to the floor. I scoot so I’m on the edge of my bed, leaning on my elbows while I watch him take off my shoes, then unbutton and unzip my jeans before tugging them down. I’m already painfully hard, my dick leaking and eager for the pleasure I know I’ll find in Ollie’s mouth.
Before he can even get my underwear down, he buries his face in my groin, breathing in deeply and mouthing my cock through my boxer briefs the way he’d done last night.
“Take me out, dirty boy. I need to fuck your mouth.” I love being able to talk to him like this, love how amped up I get on all things Ollie, my sweet little kitten with sharp claws and a feral need for my dick.
He sits back, and I lift my hips for him to strip me. I take off my shirt too, then tangle my hand in his hair again, holding him in place, while I hold the base of my dick with my other hand. “Is this what you want?”
“Yes. You know it is.”
“Say it. I want to hear you say: I’m a dirty boy who loves Cillian’s dick.”
His cheeks pinken, his eyes glassy when he says, “I’m a dirty boy who loves Cillian’s dick.”
“My dirty boy,” I amend.
He cocks his head slightly.
“Say it. I need to hear it.”
“Your dirty boy.”
“Fuck,” I grit out, then tug him close to my cock. Ollie immediately sucks it to the back of his throat, using his hand to jerk me off while he bobs on my erection.
I can’t take my eyes off him, my gaze’s magnetized to him. Ollie looks up at me through hooded brown eyes that are both unsure and frenzied, like he knows what he wants but is afraid he shouldn’t.
“That’s it. You feel so good. I’ve been thinking about you all day. I can’t get you out of my mind.” I’m not lying to him. Even when my thoughts were all entangled with my father, they were on Ollie too. I don’t know how he’s done it, but he has his hooks in me, has me on a fucking leash, even though he doesn’t know it. I never thought anyone would be able to collar me.
I fuck into his mouth slightly and he takes it, digs his nails into my thighs, every movement he makes still fast and hungry. My balls are already so damn full, it’s killing me not to unleash, but I’m also dying to kiss him again. I want to make him come too, want to swallow every sound he makes when he orgasms.
“Come here.” I pull him up, and Ollie nearly scrambles back down toward my cock again. “You can suck it again in a minute. I wanna feel you too.”
He leans back and looks at me. I can’t make myself meet his gaze, afraid of what he might see in mine, afraid of what is there. I’m too raw to hide anything at the moment.
I pull his shirt over his head, then tug him to his feet. Ollie goes easily, almost like he would follow me anywhere, and maybe he would. He’s here with me, after all.
He lets me strip him out of his clothes, his dick swollen and hard, veins decorating his pale skin like a painting. I wrap my hand around it and stroke, then ease back on the bed. “I want to try something. I want to rub off on each other. What do you think would be better for you? Top or bottom? If you think neither is good for your ribs, then we can—”
“Top,” he cuts me off eagerly.