Page 92 of Donovan's Men

Tyson said through gritted teeth, “I’m coming.”

What?Oh, a warning. I could pull off if I wanted.

I didn’t. Instead, I grasped the base of his cock and took him as deep as I dared.

Hot cum hit the back of my throat as he roared his release.

As expected, I struggled not to gag as I swallowed. I had a sense for the taste—a little salty—but I kept licking his dick as it slowly deflated. Eventually, I let it slip from my mouth, and I sat back on my haunches. I had the biggest—and likely goofiest—grin on my face.

He cracked an eye open. “Jesus, Hamish, that rocked.”

“Thank you for trusting me.”

He tilted his head in obvious question.

“You were my first. And my second—”

“Which makes me honored.”

I squinted. “Yeah, or you could say you had to trust me not to screw it up.”

He burst out laughing. “Short of biting me or something, you weren’t likely to screw it up. Now”—he indicated my lap where my straining erection sat—“I think it’s time to take care of you.”

“How?”

“I can give you another blow job or just do it with my hands.”

“With lube, right? Because I’m not a fan of friction.”

“Whereas I love a little pain with my pleasure.”

Okay, good to know. Would I ever get to use that knowledge? “I have lube. And I bought condoms too. In case, you know…”

“Yeah, I know. Something tells me you were a scout.”

I straightened. “Naturally. A rite of passage for every boy and girl in my house. Well, the girls were girl’s, of course.”

“Of course.” He echoed my words and then offered me what I chose to interpret as a genuine, amused smile. “So—my mouth or my hand?”

As much as I wanted that wet, warm heat again, I knew I couldn’t wait. “Uh, hand. How do you want me?”

“In the middle of the bed. Lying down.”

I scrambled into that position.

To my frustration, he took his time moving around to the right side of the bed. Oh, perfect—I preferred the left side.

And which side will Donovan choose?

Knowing him? Right smack in the middle and fully sprawled.

Tyson knelt on the bed, refocusing me. My mind didn’t tend to wander most of the time. Remaining hyper focused on either the task or the person in front of me proved critical to my work. In this moment, though, focus was proving impossible.

As he levered over me and gently placed his weight onto me, all thoughts fled. My skin was supersensitive as it brushed his. I was singularly aware of his warmth. His muscles. His solidity. I opened my thighs, and he settled between them. When he pressed his lips to mine, I opened without hesitation.

He swept his tongue into my mouth, demanding reciprocity.

I was only too happy to oblige.