Follow the River

“Clearly,” he laughs, the decadent sound washing over my body. I would give my left arm to hear it more often. Which is saying something, since I kind of need it to throw a damn football.

“Abhai

, I’ll make you a deal,” he begins, heat from his eyes scorching me. It’s then that I look down and realize his impressive erection tenting his grey sweats. “If you give me five more minutes to finish what I was working on, I will milk your prostate like it’s the last thing I’ll ever do. First with my fingers, then my cock.” His head tilts to the side, watching me through a hooded gaze. “Can you give me five more minutes?”

He takes a step away from me, taking my silence as a confirmation, and that’s when my surprise catches his attention.

“What the fuck?” he asks, his brows furrowed. “Is this what you wanted to show me?”

My tongue runs across my bottom lip as I nod, taking a step towards him, gripping his shirt in my fist. “Yeah, it was. Now, baby, since you’re clearly the one who can listen better…” I trail off the taunt, a half smirk teasing my lips. Leaning forward, I lick his jaw, simultaneously grabbing his bulge in my palm, before whispering against his lips. “Get in the fucking blanket fort.”