Page 30 of Sinful Sharing

Maybe I should run.

I probably shouldn’t be messing with another man. Didn’t I learn my lesson the last time?

This probably won’t end well for me.

But the thing is, I’m so turned on. I feel so wound up and desperate for release. Within two months, I’ll be back in San Francisco. Back to charity galas, and country clubs, and the carefully crafted life my mother expects me to live.

Back to being the version of Taylor who pretends he’s no longer attracted to men.

Reaching down, I fiddle with Jude’s belt. For once, I want to stop pretending. Out here, no one knows me. No one expects anything from me. I don’t have to deny my body what it so desperately needs because my secret will remain here.

Jude brushes his knuckles against my jaw, erasing the remaining doubt in my head. Looking up, I meet his cautious stare. “I don’t want you to leave me alone.”

His expression softens. “What do you want?”

“You. All of you.”

The corner of his mouth lifts with a smile, and then he kisses me again. It’s rougher this time. Passionate. His tongue presses past the seam of my lips, demanding entry. He grips a handful of my hair, licking inside my mouth. God, he’s a good kisser. I cling to his forearms, surrendering to every deep, ferocious stroke of his tongue. He sucks my lips and kisses the base of my throat until my dick screams for freedom from my pants. Grinding on his thigh, I try to soothe the ache. It’s not enough. I want him buried so deep that I forget where I am.

I’m on the verge of begging when he lets me go and walks over to where bags of grain are stacked. He sits down, eyeing me with a look that sends a thrill right down to my toes. “Take your clothes off,” he orders, his voice ragged, eyes burning with something fierce. “Slowly.”

I’ve never done a strip show for anyone before, and at first, it feels awkward. But the more clothing I remove, the more his eyes darken, and the more confident I feel. The outline of his dick thickens as I slide my boxers over my hips. He groans and gropes himself. He stares as if he’s never seen a naked man before.

“You are so fucking gorgeous.”

“Thanks, I guess?” I try to smile, but my balls are aching.

He jerks his head. “Come here.”

Four quick steps bring me to him. He grabs my waist and pulls me closer. Pressing his face to my stomach, he sniffs my skin, then plants a gentle kiss right there. Tingles cover my arms and neck. I run my fingers through his hair. His lips slowly form a circle around my belly button, and I moan when he licks inside it. My back arches as he leisurely swirls his tongue around, tasting my skin.

“Fuck,” I pant.

Jude hums against my flesh, giving my navel one last lick before kissing along my V-line. He stops short of the patch of blond curls that point straight to my rock-hard dick, earning a whimper of protest. But he doesn’t notice. His eyes are shut, hands reverently exploring my skin. “So fucking soft,” he whispers.

My breathing hitches. He strokes the curve of my ass, running his fingers down the back of my thighs and legs. I bite back a whimper when he caresses my inner thighs, teasing my balls with the tips of his fingers. His movements are still reverent, almost as if he’s trying to commit my body to his memory.

And I’ve never been so turned on.

But then he wraps his fist around my dick and... holy shit. My entire body shudders. “Oh, God.”

“No.” He tilts his head, smirking up at me. “Just me.”

I start to laugh, but it comes out in a moan as his callused hand glides up and down my shaft. God, I missed this feeling. So much better than my own hand. Better than porn. Better than fantasizing about another man touching me.

“Spread your legs.”

His voice is deep and low, thick with lust. I comply. “Good boy,” he rumbles.

I’ve never imagined getting off on being called a good boy before, but it leaves goosebumps everywhere. Jude hums with approval. He spits on two fingers. I bite down on my bottom lip as he slides them along my butt crack. Fuck, that feels good. My stomach caves.

“Tell me.” He teases my hole with his finger, his fist slowly working my length. “How long has it been?”

I’m already drowning in too much pleasure to remember. “Too long,” I pant, my hips jerking, thrusting, seeking more friction.

“Good.”

My eyes snap open. “Good?”