Page 54 of Studs Up
“Oh god,” I swallowed. This was really happening. Nolan Reed was going to suck me off. He stopped. He was hovering so close his warm breath grazed the sensitive head.
His eyes flicked up, and that infuriatingly sexy smile made me shiver. The deep shade of sapphire eyes had my cock screaming, pulsing for attention. Another bead of cum surged from the tip.
“I have a better idea,” he said. A better idea?
“What?” My chest was heaving as I tried to catch my breath. He retraced his kisses and let his skin glance along my cock as he moved back up my body. I shuddered. He kissed my collarbone and then the hollow of my throat.
“I’ll make you a deal,” he murmured, working his way up my neck. My brain was short circuiting. Everything he was doing felt so fucking good I almost couldn’t handle it, and I certainly couldn’t process accepting any kind of deal with him in this state.
“Score the winning goal today,” he nipped at my ear. His hot breath shot right to my cock, and I rolled my hips up, finding his shaft just as hard and wanting as mine. “And I will suck you until you cum in my mouth.”
I groaned and arched.
“How’s that a better idea?” I asked. I reached between us and took both of our cocks in my hand. Fuck that felt good. My stiff shaft tight with his, I was so ready, a few pumps, and I would cum. But Nolan Reed was an asshole, and he grabbed my wrist and pinned it above my head. So I tried with my other hand, and he snatched that one, too.
I bucked with frustration, seeking any friction that would finish the job, but his body completely covered mine, and his strength and weight were too much for me to fight.
And now I was pinned, restrained, and so fucking horny I couldn’t think straight.
“It is because I say it is,” he smirked.
“Fuck you.” I meant it to be an insult, but it came out as a moan, making him grin like the devil. Why was that so fucking sexy?
“The winning goal, Holden Monroe,” he clarified. “Not a goal. The winning goal.”
I glared at him. I wanted his mouth on my cock. I wanted to hold his hair as he sucked me dry. I wanted to stay in bed with him and never leave.
“I hate you,” I glared. He merely smiled down at me, knowing he had the upper hand, and I relented, putting up as much of a fight as a feather in the wind.
“Naw,” he grinned and ducked his head enough for his lips to brush mine. Not even a kiss, just a graze and a promise. “I don’t think you do.”
He got off, and I stayed where I was, my arms still above my head and my cock still sticking straight up, waiting for attention.
“Touch it and the deals off,” he said with a smug grin. I almost grabbed my cock to spite him, but god, I wanted that mouth and everything attached to it.
I refrained and got out of bed, doing my best to appear as unbothered as possible, and stalked to the bathroom, pausing to flip him off before closing the door and turning on the shower.
I realized I hadn’t bothered to lock the door because Nolan had stepped in behind me and grabbed the soap out of my hand.
“What are you doing?”
“Showering.”
“Obviously,” I rolled my eyes. He pinned me down with his eyes, and I almost got on my knees.
“Making sure you don’t jerk off. That would defeat the purpose.” He reached around me and grabbed a washcloth.
“I hardly think so,” I muttered.
“Plus, it’s environmentally friendly.”
“Oh, look at you, climate warrior,” I deadpanned.
“It’s an important cause,” he replied. He washed me. Lathering the washcloth and gently scrubbing me clean with kisses and dirty words. All the things he wanted to do to me were injected right into my blood.
“I hate you,” I said when he rinsed me off and let me go. I crossed my arms, but those fucking eyes weakened me, and I would do anything he asked. Like, refrain from jerking off for the promise of a blow job later if I scored the winning goal, for example.
“You are so cute when you say that,” he grinned, slid his arm around the small of my back, and yanked me to him. He kissed me deeply and passionately until my hands betrayed me, with one in his hair and the other around his neck.
