Page 143 of The Incredible Ordinary

His cock throbs in my mouth with every pulse of his release.

I keep sucking him. Greedy for it all. Everything he has to give.

He collapses onto the bed, chest heaving. His softening cock is still in my hand when I lift my head to look at him.

He opens his eyes, swallows, and meets my gaze.

A lazy, satisfied smile plays on his lips.

I start to move up his body.

“Will you fuck me?”

I stop.

Blink.

Will I?

“Yes.”

I let go of his cock and look around, then I lick my lips and glance at him again.

“Lube?”

He looks knowingly at me.

My cheeks heat. “I did some research.”

He grins and points to his bag. “Front pocket.”

I go and get the tube, grabbing one of the condoms as well. I drop them on the bed before I draw in a fortifying breath, nervous for some reason. I want it to be good for him. I think I’m less nervous than I would be, actually, because I have something to concentrate on: making this good for him.

The cap opens with a loud click. I dribble cold lube on my fingers and rub them together for a second before I start spreading the liquid up and down the crease of his ass.

His eyes stay locked with mine, deep and dark blue. He grabs the headboard, muscles flexing, and spreads his legs. I rub over his rim, then I slide a finger inside him.

Our gazes hold, and he clenches around me. I lean down and give his cock a lick. His muscles flex. Biceps strain. He lets out a groan.

My heart hammers in my chest.

He’s still soft, so I can take all of him in my mouth.

“Fucking hell,” he says, and his eyes slam shut for a moment before he pries them open again. “More.”

I add another finger and move them in and out experimentally. He takes one hand off the headboard and buries it in my hair again.

I suck, and his cock gives a lazy twitch on my tongue.

“You’re gonna get me hard again,” he says, voice soft, thumb caressing the corner of my mouth, eyes gentle like I don’t have his cock in my mouth and my fingers in his ass right now.

I’d answer, but my mouth is full, and I find I’m reluctant to change that, so I just quirk my brow at him.

Do you mind?

He chuckles, but it turns into a moan when I lick over the tip.

“Crook your middle finger,” he says in a low voice. I do, and he arches off the bed with a loud curse.