Page 93 of Donovan's Men

Our tongues tangled as he trailed his hand down my side to my hip.

As I thrust my erection up against his spent cock, electricity zinged through me.

He shifted to lay beside me.

I regretted the loss of a weight holding me down. That thought fled my mind, though, when he grasped me intimately.

His grip was sure and firm.

My dick strained, wanting the promised friction. I pointed to the bottle of lube I’d managed to remember to put on the bedside table.

He grinned. He released me as he levered over me to reach for it. Within moments he had the bottle open, and he drizzled some onto his palm. He rubbed his hands together. “To warm it.”

“Uh, thank you.” Considerate—but that meant more time elapsed before he finally put his hand around me again.

When he did, my dick jerked in response to the touch. Again, I…self-serviced…fairly often. Well, often. Okay, sometimes. Truthfully? Not that often. I just didn’t have the urge. I tried to associate porn with jerking off, but that never worked. Now, though, I had new fantasy material. Anytime I wanted to get in the mood, I’d simply have to remember this moment.

As Tyson squeezed me lightly, pleasure sang through my veins.

“Do you like that?”

I bit my lip and nodded.

“I need more than that.”

Huh? Oh.“That feels really good. Please don’t stop.”

His responding wicked grin hit me low in the belly and skittered downward. “Never.” He moved his hand up and down experimentally.

I resisted the urge to buck into the friction.

He moved in for a quick kiss. “Do whatever feels good, okay?”

“You feel good.”

The endearingly adorable wink hit me in the heart.

Then he began to work me in earnest. He tugged, he twisted…he ran his thumb along my sensitive slit. Everything hedid worked me higher and higher to a peak I wanted so badly I could taste it. Staving off the orgasm felt like monumental work, but making this last felt important—like I was supposed to be prolonging it.

He stretched up to nibble my neck. “Come for me, Hamish.”

The way he whispered the words in my ear had me jerking up and, finally, coming. My balls drew up, and my semen erupted. An amazing feeling of well-being encompassed me. I soared. I climbed to new heights of pleasure. Much a repeat of the night he’d blown me. As I gazed into those fathomless brown eyes, I felt treasured in a way I never had before. He got it. He got me. He’d taken my trust and turned it into something beautiful—something I would treasure forever. “I wish Donovan was here.”

He grinned. “Yeah, I could’ve recorded us but didn’t figure you’d be okay with that.”

Ah, he knew me well. Him I trusted implicitly—technology, I did not.

“We could send him a selfie.” Exhaustion pulled me under even as I made the suggestion. Tyson would understand I only meant from the neck up.

He snagged his phone, tucked my head against his shoulder, pulled my earlobe, and snapped a shot while I giggled. Then he kissed me passionately and took another shot.

As I snuggled up against him, he sent the photos to our group chat where Donovan could see them and I’d be able to retrieve them later.

Before he could put his phone back on the nightstand, it pinged.

I cracked an eye but couldn’t focus on the screen.

“Donovan sent back three heart emojis.”