If I make it through the next few minutes, I will. But I might incinerate from the heat of his request, the erotic allure of capturing our passion on camera. My cock leaks at the prospect of shooting a naughty film.
The evidence of my arousal makes my boyfriend growl, bite his lip, and stick out his tongue, asking for more. I sweep the tip of my dick across his tongue, my whole body shaking from lust.
“Turn on the camera, Deck,” he tells me, all alpha and commanding. “Turn it on now and make a video of us.”
Electricity crackles along my nerve endings as I tap the camera and click on the video with shaky, excited fingers. Panting hard, I manage to get it steady despite the pounding lust, then I hit record as I slide my cock along his face.
He opens wide, and I move to his lips so the head of my cock pays a visit to the warm paradise of his mouth. My body twitches with pleasure while I feed Grant my cock, inch by inch—capturing it on video as I go.
He takes me nice and slow, relaxing his throat, letting me into his mouth all the way. His palms curl around my ass, gripping my cheeks.
With the phone in my left hand, I record every filthy second. I might detonate from the heady, erotic sight of Grant Blackwood deep throating me.
His eyes urge me on, say keep going.
I let out a hot breath. “Oh fuck . . .”
Grant’s eyes blaze with fire. His hands squeeze me harder.
We become a feedback loop of sensations.
Groans. Thrusts. Scents. Touch. Lust.
Every single thing we’re doing turns me on. Every second heats me more. Then the pleasure kicks up another hundred degrees as I stare through the screen, imagining watching this again later with him. Reliving it. Hearing us, seeing us.
I’m so fucking aroused, I grunt out a needy yes, babe, yes.
Grant sucks me harder, flicking his tongue along my shaft as pleasure rips through me. It’s not going to take long. Not long at all.
As he holds my ass tight, I shudder in anticipation of the ecstasy.
“Gonna come soon, babe,” I warn as I record his face, my dick, our filthy love.
I barely move, just delighting in the absolute hotness of my cock hitting the back of his throat and him sucking my shaft like it’s a long, hard piece of candy.
As my orgasm nears, I ease out, lust rocketing through my body. “Want to come on your tongue. Want to see it.” Gripping my cock with my free hand, I slide my fist up and down my length, over the head, while Grant stares hotly.
A tremble rushes over my skin. “You get me so fucking hard. You turn me on so fucking much.”
“Then give it to me,” he says, offering his tongue right as my orgasm coils tight then blasts through me, pleasure hammering in every goddamn cell. I squeeze the crown of my cock, hot jets of come landing on my lover’s tongue.
Pleasure takes me hostage. My vision blurs at the sight.
From the erotic image I’m capturing on his phone.
From Grant’s groans, sounding like I’m the most delicious thing he’s ever tasted.
As he shudders beneath me, he licks his lips, swallows me down, then lets out the most fantastic sound of culinary delight.
My man looks like he’s never tasted anything better.
Tingles spread through me. I hit stop, drop the phone on the bed, then fall down over him.
I nuzzle his neck. “That was so fucking hot, babe.”
“Tomorrow, I want to watch it while we fuck,” he whispers.
“Consider it a deal.” I clasp him tighter, wrapping my arms around his strong shoulders, loving his safe embrace. “Missed you like crazy.”
Grant brings me close too, our limbs tangled together, our hearts pressed against each other. The thump-thump of mine beats in tandem with the thunder of his.
I hug him harder, then whisper in his ear, “Love you so much, rookie.”
“Love you too, Deck.”
Yeah, I’ll pretty much do anything he asks.
Love is powerful like that.
5
Declan
One hour till blast off.
I can do this.
I listened to my power rock this morning at the gym.
I ran across the Golden Gate Bridge.
Hell, I ate kale and tofu for lunch.
I am pumped up and ready to shake my booty.
Ugh. Shake my booty. I can’t even say it in my head without cringing.
After I get out of the shower and dry off, Grant strides into the bathroom wearing jeans and nothing else. It’s a damn good look. “Your stylist is here.”
I roll my eyes. “How about you just toss me some clothes?”
“Fine, fine. I can do that.” He lobs a pair of bright red boxer briefs my way. “Wear these.”
With a laugh, I tug them on. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you’d leave me for Rafe Rodman.” Grant is hooked on the designer’s underwear, and he’s gotten me hooked on them too. Not that I need more reasons to be attracted to Grant, but the tightness of his boxer briefs does not hurt.