Page 21 of Vigilante Twink and the Cop

But I’m naked and poised over him, and I’m feeling lost.

A slightly crazy sounding laugh bubbles out of me. “Okay, I’ve changed my mind. You can touch me.”

His eyes darken, but he doesn’t grab me. He just keeps staring into my eyes as if I’m the most interesting thing in the room. Me, Micah, not the body I’m offering him.

His hands finally move, sliding up my thighs slowly, as if he’s asking permission with his palms rather than his words, and I feel my whole body answer before I’ve decided to let it.

“Lennox.”

“I’ve got you,” he says quietly, and pulls me down onto his lap instead of pulling me toward the mattress, like he wants me close before he wants anything else.

I straddle him, my hands finding his shoulders, and for a second neither of us moves, just breathing the same air, his eyes still fixed on my face like he’s committing it to memory. I lean in and kiss him, slow, and he makes a low sound against my mouth that undoes something in my chest I didn’t know was still tied shut.

His hands slide up my back, still careful, like I’m something he’s afraid of handling wrong, and I press closer, wanting more of that carefulness, wanting to drown in it after a lifetime of men who never once bothered with it.

“Off,” I murmur against his mouth, tugging at his shirt.

He laughs, breathless, and helps me with the buttons, his hands not quite steady, and when the shirt finally comes off I get to feast on the sight of him, solid and a little soft in the way real men are instead of the men on magazine covers, and I decide instantly that I really do like it more than any of those men, and seeing him undressed is even better the second time and I suspect it’s only going to get better and better every time.

“Bed,” he says, voice wrecked already.

I let him lay me back against the pillows, and the city lights keep spilling gold across the ceiling, and his mouth finds my throat, and I stop thinking about performance or angles or any of the things I usually think about in a moment like this one, because none of it applies anymore, not with him.

“Micah,” he says against my skin, like my name is the only word he has left.

“I’m here.”

“I know,” he says. “I’m trying to believe it.”

I pull him closer, and the city goes on glittering outside the window, indifferent to both of us, and for once that feels like exactly the right amount of witness.

“Roll over,” he says as he grabs two of the pillows.

My body complies before my mind has registered what is happening.

He gently encourages me to lift my hips. He slides the pillows under them. He settles behind me, between my spread legs.

“I’m going to eat your ass until you scream my name,” he says. “Is that okay?”

“Very!” I squeak.

Lennox chuckles. The sound rolls through me, sending butterflies fluttering in my tummy. A far more dizzying sensation than the spike of arousal and anticipation at the thought of having my ass eaten.

Strong, firm hands pull my ass cheeks apart. Soft wetness laps over my hole, sending sparks of pleasure zapping through my veins and muscles until it reaches every part of me. He is licking my hole, but I’m feeling the pleasure of it everywhere.

His tongue swirls around and around. My hands clench the sheets, forming tight fists.

Lennox’s tongue works and works. Around and around. Over and over. Around in the other direction. Each and every caress of his tongue, hot, soft, and wet.

Between licks, his breath is warm and fast. Little happy grunts and groans are spilling out of him. Murmurs of fervent appreciation.

Fucking hell.

I can count the number of times I’ve had my ass eaten on one hand. Most men I’ve known are far more concerned with their own pleasure, and they don’t seem to find eating ass a pleasure for them.

Judging by the sounds Lennox is making, he is really enjoying this. Perhaps even as much as I am. And even if he wasn’t, I think he’d still do this. Still take pride in it. He is a generous lover. He takes as much satisfaction in giving pleasure as he does in receiving it. Maybe even more so.

His tongue pushes harder against my rim. Digging in deeper. My muscles flutter, soften. Give way. Lennox groans as he pushes his tongue inside me.