Page 55 of Get A Fix

“That’s right. Why wouldn’t you.”

We were quiet a moment, just looking at each other.

“But really,” I reiterated. “We need to call housekeeping.”

He chuckled softly and moved so he could put an arm around my shoulders and pull me in tight.

“I’m not kidding. I’m not sleeping on that bed without new sheets.”

“I know, baby. I’ll take care of it right now.” He kissed my cheek and got up to call. I noted that he stared at me the whole time he was on the phone.

I waited for them to deliver the new sheets while Ash went to take another shower. He felt gross because the guy had stood up, naked, and tried to hug him, and he just wanted that off him. I knew it was in his head—he hadn’t let the guy actually make contact with him—but if it would make him feel better, I told him to go scrub himself clean.

The sheets and blankets came, the maid took the old linens with her, and I locked us back in for the night. I had the bed remade by the time he emerged with a towel around his hips, using another to dry his hair, and something about the way he looked at me, with both desire and hope, formed a lump in my throat.

“I was so scared you would think something stupid.”

“Not me,” I assured him. “C’mere.”

He moved quickly, and when he reached me, I hooked a hand around the side of his neck and yanked him toward me. I took his mouth, and he parted those soft lips instantly, wanting the frantic, desperate kiss, my tongue, and my dominance. I could practically taste the yearning and devoured him in turn, feeling that overwhelming desire to claim what he was offering.

When I broke the kiss, I pulled the towel out of his hand and dropped it to the floor, and then tugged the one around his waist free before turning him in my arms and shoving him down onto the bed.

“Hands and knees,” I ordered, my voice husky, my breathing rough, yet being careful not to scare him.

He scrambled to follow directions, and then nearly shattered my control when he looked over his shoulder at me. “I’m all yours.”

I shivered just looking at the gorgeous slope of his back, his perfectly round ass, muscular thighs, and long legs. “I don’t want to be too rough or⁠—”

“Just…please.” His words came out choked, in a hoarse whisper. “I want you so bad, I’m aching with it.”

“I feel the same,” I said, walking around the bed to the nightstand where I’d put my lube earlier, grabbing a pillow as well, and watching as a shudder ran through him. “What’s wrong, honey?” I asked, sliding a hand over his ass and tossing the pillow beside him.

His moan was filthy. “You have no idea how dark and wet your eyes look.”

I grinned slowly. “I hope that’s a good thing.” I got on the bed behind him, then bent and licked over his hole.

“Cooper!”

The yell was muffled because he’d fallen forward, face pressed to the pillow he used to not let the entire floor know my tongue was in his ass. When I parted his cheeks and began the long, slow licking and sucking, there were more curse words shouted into the memory foam.

I used my tongue, my mouth, relentlessly, hungrily, enjoying every second of him writhing, lifting his face to call my name and fisting his hands in the comforter. I pushed inside as deeply as I could, feeling the muscles loosen with every push and retreat.

He trembled hard in my hands when he heard the snap of the bottle opening, and then when I added two lube-slicked fingers to his ass, he cried out.

“Is that okay?” I needed to be sure. Always.

“Oh God, yes,” he said, his voice thick and guttural, sounding drunk.

I used my fingers gently but insistently, in and out, stroking him over and over, adding my tongue, finally reaching under him and taking his cock in hand.

“Cooper,” he nearly snarled, and the sound of him, almost angry with need, took every drop of control I had not to simply take him. “Fuck me now!”

Straightening up, I took hold of my steadily leaking cock and slathered it with lube. Bending forward, I kissed the small of his back before notching the head to his entrance, and was met with no resistance as I pressed into his body.

“Please,” he whispered, and since I trusted him, as we’d promised to be honest in all things, I pushed in steadily until I was buried to the hilt.

He felt incredible, tight and hot, his muscles contracting around my length. “You feel so good,” I barely got out, the words catching in my throat.