Page 18 of Every November

“Everything. This.” He pauses to swallow, and I raise a brow to encourage him to continue. “I jerked off to last year’s memory so many times.”

The admission falls so easily from his pretty lips that I have to reach down and squeeze my straining dick through my boxers. “Well, how about we create some new material for your spank bank, huh?”

I don’t wait for an answer. My body folds over his, and my mouth finds the hollow of his throat. His skin tastes faintly of soap. I bite down gently, just enough to make him jump, and something in me settles at the thought of leaving a mark he’ll still be able to find days from now, long after I’m back in Chicago.

Evan gasps, hands flying to my shoulders, nails digging in hard enough to sting. Fuck, I love the tiny flash of pain, the way his whole body reacts to me so viscerally. Pulling these uninhibited, unfiltered reactions out of him makes me even harder than I already was.

No one else has even come close to the feeling of Evan beneath me. All I feel is a burning need to make this muscular, hot-as-sin, smiley brunet with an ’80s porn stache lose his mind over me.

I trail kisses down his sexy body, pausing to tease his nipples with my tongue. He arches into my mouth, and I keep a mental log that he likes his nipples played with, so I bring my hand up to give them both attention. My mouth continues to work down his body, licking along his abs and following the dark trail of hair that leads to his dick. He’s hard as steel, waiting for my attention, and I deliberately bypass his erection, not wanting to rush this.

Two years in a row is a wild coincidence. I don’t think I’ll be lucky enough to get three in a row. You have his number now. I shake away the unhelpful thought and focus on making this so good he’ll beg for a year-three repeat. I’m not even done with him now, and I already want more.

I kiss the insides of his thighs, feeling his muscles tense and jump beneath my mouth with every pass. His hips shift, chasing more contact even as his hands twist into the sheets like he’s trying to hold himself still and completely failing. Watching his control slip makes my pulse quicken. It’s hammering in my throat.

“Marcus,” he begs.

“Hmm?” I ask, looking up at him from between his legs.

“Touch me, suck me. Something, anything.”

I grin and suck a mark into the inside of his thigh, and he hisses. It’s a stupidly possessive thing to do, but I want it there anyway. It’s proof tonight was real. A reason for him to think of me until it fades.

“Marcus!” he shouts, and I give the mark a little lick. “Please.”

I’m really enjoying his desperation for me. “Since you asked so nicely.”

My fingers wrap around his length, stroking him slowly from base to tip. He groans, hips thrusting into my touch. I tighten my grip slightly, using his precum to slick my way. He lets out a sigh of relief; his eyes close, and his head falls back, but that won’t do.

“Look at me,” I rasp. His eyes fly open, locking with mine. God, the way he responds to me is too fucking good.

It gives me exactly what I need. Control. There’s no waiting around for someone to decide if I’m worth their time and attention. Evan already decided I am. He’s here, and he’s listening, happily letting me lead.

“Eyes on me while I suck your cock.” It’s demanding, but I want this night burned into his brain.

Without breaking eye contact, I lower my head and take him into my mouth. He’s thick and hot on my tongue, tasting of salt and desire. I take him deep until he hits the back of my throat, then pull back slowly, swirling my tongue around the head.

He’s thicker than I remember—and that’s even better. His cock is a heavy weight on my tongue that makes my own throb in response. I flatten my tongue against the underside as I take him deeper, letting him feel the heat and the wetness of my mouth as I tease him.

A moan tears from his throat, his hands flying to my hair. The way he unravels fuels me. He becomes a man of pure, unthinking need.

I pull back slowly until just his tip is resting on my bottom lip and look up at him through my lashes, watching his face as I swirl my tongue lightly around the sensitive ridge, dipping into the slit to taste the precum gathering there. His eyes are locked on my mouth, on the way I’m worshiping his cock.

“Marcus,” he exhales roughly, my name a prayer and a curse.

I take his shaft deep again, farther this time, relaxing my throat until he’s nudging the back of it. His hips begin to move in shallow, involuntary thrusts, chasing the pleasure I’m bringing him. He’s trying to be good, trying to let me lead, but his body is betraying him. I let him set the pace for a moment, meeting his movements, taking him as deep as he wants to go. His breathing grows harsher, little pants and groans falling from his lips. I can feel the tension coiling in him, the way his thighs tighten, the way his balls draw up tight against his body. He’s getting close.

So I pull back, releasing him with a wet pop. A string of saliva connects us for a second before breaking. He’s slick and glistening, flushed a deep, angry red, and he whines at the loss, a high, needy sound that goes straight to my dick.

“No, please don’t stop,” he begs. So polite.

“I haven’t had enough fun with you yet to let you come.” And I haven’t. So, I torture him more by lowering my head, bypassing his cock entirely. I press open-mouthed kisses to his inner thighs, nipping at the sensitive skin and licking the bruise I left earlier.

“Fuck, it’s hot seeing my mark between your legs.”

He pushes himself up on his elbows to look down at the mark, and his breath catches. I watch his face as he takes in the sight of the dark purple bruise standing out against his pale skin—proof that I was there, proof that I claimed him.

“You like that?” I ask, knowing the answer from the way his cock twitches against his stomach.