Page 55 of Bounced!
I stood an inch taller, had broader shoulders and thicker arms, but Dante’s bulk felt like the whole world smashing into me. My hands moved from his back to his arms, and I suddenly realized he might’ve been as strong as I was. The feeling of taut triceps threatened to tip me further over the edge.
And then there was Dante’s cock.
It ground against mine, and I could tell, through far too many layers of clothing, that he was much bigger than me in that department. My head leaked a little at that realization.
“Take my shirt off,” I said in the rare moment he let my lips free.
He sat up on his knees, straddling me, and awkwardly pulled my shirt up and over my head. Then he froze, staring down, not saying a single word.
“You okay?” I asked.
His fingers reached down and buried themselves in my fur, twirling the hair before drifting to another patch.
“I’ve never loved hair so much as I do right now. Fuck, Mark, you might be the sexiest man alive.”
My face flushed, and I was sure I’d just turned fire-engine red. No one talked to me like that. Not ever.
He cupped my cheek, suddenly gentle. “Don’t be embarrassed. It’s me, remember. I get to worship you, even if you don’t see how amazing you are.”
My blush deepened, and I had to look away. His hand guided my face back toward him, and I saw the most compassionate, beautiful giant grinning down.
He pulled his own shirt over his head, tossing it to the side. My eyes widened as I took in his chest. I’d seen his arms plenty of times at the bar, struggling to escape whatever shirt he was wearing, but I’d never seen him without a shirt. Dear God, his chest was a work of art. Miles of hard packed muscle lay beneath the darkest, richest skin shaded somewhere between ebony and midnight. Perky nipples, even darker than the rest of him, stared down, begging for my fingers and lips and teeth. Unlike Mark the Wookie, Dante was smooth, not a hair in sight on his chest or arms, not until my eyes reached just above his waistband where a few curls of chocolate goodness peeked out.
“You like?” he asked, a quirk of his lips confirming he’d caught me staring.
“God, yes. Those abs can’t be real. I mean, none of that can be. Shit. I thought I was in good shape, but you—”
He smothered whatever I was about to say with another kiss. As he did, our chests pressed together, my fir against his skin, the heat of two overheated men smashing together. It nearly stole my breath.
All I could think about was kissing him. All I wanted was to kiss him. Kissing him was all that mattered.
Then my cock made it clear he wanted more than kissing.
“Somebody’s happy to see me.” Dante smirked, grinding against me in a completely unfair way.
“I think I’m scared of whatever you’ve got down there.”
His smile exploded, and a deep laugh rumbled free. “We’ll have to take our time. You might need to work on stretching a bit.”
“Me?” I gasped, my voice jumping a good two octaves.
His grin widened as his gaze turned lecherous. “You can have whatever you want, Mark Delgado, but I’m going to be inside you before this is over.”
My heart tried to race right out of my chest.
“Maybe we should move to the bedroom?” I meant it as a suggestion, but it came out more pleading, almost desperate. His eyes danced in the lamplight.
“Only if I get to take your pants off and leave them here.”
“Jesus,” I said. “And here I thought you were the hard nut to crack.”
“Oh, I’m gonna crack your nuts. Get those pants off. Now.”
The note of command in his voice sent yet another thrill straight to my cock. I was always the guy in charge, the man with the plan, the one giving orders. And here Dante was—
“Enough,” he snapped, his meaty fingers reaching down and unzipping my pants. As he yanked them down to my ankles, he said, “I’m patient with a lot of things. Getting you naked will never be one of them.”
My dick, stiffer than it had ever been, sprung free of my undies and nearly slapped him in the face. He didn’t so much as flinch, merely dragged my pants down while wrapping his lips around my head and sucking the precum right out of me.
