Page 177 of The Storm

He bites down harder, tugging at the skin with his teeth, sucking it between his lips. It’ll leave a mark.

My cock is so hard it makes me dizzy.

My stomach swoops at the hot look in his eyes when he meets my gaze.

His fingers move to toy with the hem of my shirt, pushing it upward slowly, almost like he’s taking his time with a present. I lean back, balancing on my elbows. He pushes the shirt up over my abs, up my chest. The fabric grazes my nipples, and they pebble into tight nubs.

His eyes keep tracing my bare skin, the lines of my body. It feels like a physical touch. Goosebumps make my nipples even harder. He licks over the pad of his thumb and presses it down on one.

I suck in a breath as tingles run up and down my spine.

With my shirt up around my neck, he moves lower. Fingertips hook the waistband of the boxer shorts. He starts todrag it lower. The head of my cock pushes out, the tip wet and glistening.

He drags the waistband lower still. It scrapes over the hypersensitive skin of my cock. By the time the material is all the way down my length, I’m panting. He drags it lower and pushes it underneath my balls.

A pearly drop of precum leaks out of my slit.

I look down at myself, splayed out on his kitchen counter, shirt up, cock heavy and hard, balls pushed forward, aching and full.

Another pulse of precum. A drop slides down the side.

Nick lowers his head and licks it off. I snap my hips up, every muscle in my body clenching.

He lifts his head and straightens his back. The only sound in the kitchen is my labored breathing.

“Please,” I gasp when he just keeps looking at me.

Do something.

Something.

Anything.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he says. His eyes linger on my nipples. My belly button. Lower. Hips. My jutting cock. But then he looks at my fingers and the backs of my hands. My thighs. My legs hanging over the edge of the counter. My knees.

He slides his palm up my thigh again.

My pulse thunders in my ears. Pounds in my neck.

“But then, you always were,” he says hoarsely.

His hand is almost at my cock. It jerks in anticipation.

Almost…

Almost…

The beeping of the oven pierces the air like a siren. I snap my eyes up and blink at the sudden intrusion.

Nick sends me a smirk and grabs the oven mitts.

“Seriously?” I pant.

“Do you want to burn down the building?”

I drop my head back, close my eyes, and groan. “Fuck.”

I can get a handle on myself. I swear I can. I start to sit up, but then the fucker lowers his head and swipes his tongue over my cock again.