14. Owen

14

OWEN

My head is dizzy.

My whole body is a live wire.

I’m not sure I can stand, since I’m still buzzing from touching River for the first time, from bringing him the pleasure I’ve been dreaming of. But I want to get up, since I need to kiss him again. Do more. Do everything.

I push up on my feet, but before I can rise, River is down on the floor, his spent dick out, his hands on my face, clasping me.

“You are incredible,” he says, and it sounds like he’s glowing—maybe it’s good radiation from the orgasm I just gave him. “Just incredible.”

Not gonna lie—the praise lights me up. I’m such a praise junkie. It turns me on to bring pleasure, to be told I made a guy feel amazing. It thrills me more to give than to receive.

I half expect River to kiss me right now, because that’s my favorite thing to do after a blow job. But instead, his mouth pays a visit to my throat, kissing me there. “I don’t even know what you did to me, Owen. That was insane,” he says, lavishing kisses all along my neck, my Adam’s apple, like he’s cherishing where his dick was minutes ago. “Your throat is like magic. Did you find a lamp somewhere and make a wish with a genie to have no gag reflex?”

I crack up, leaning my head back, laughing. “Yes. You figured me out.”

River raises his face, still holding my cheeks. “You are the blow job champion of the world. Just know that. And listen, I’m going to suck you off in about two minutes. Once I recover from the world’s most outstanding head ever given to any man in history. But I want to warn you. I am not as good as you. I hope you can forgive me, you fucking deep-throat god. My dick is humbled to have made the great acquaintance of your mouth.”

Yeah, I’m beaming inside. “My mouth is pretty happy to have met your dick,” I say.

And the rest of me is too.

All of me is.

“Seriously, though. I just want you to know what I do to you will be like the BMW of head to your Bugatti.”

“BMWs are hot rides, River,” I say. “Also, shut up. It’s going to feel great because it’s you,” I say, but once those words come out, I’ve got to remind myself to keep my emotions in check.

Now is not the time to bust out the I am so in love with you or any variation on that you’re the one theme.

Now is the time for more sex.

Just sex.

I have no idea where we’re going, but I also don’t want to contemplate it tonight. I just want to feel.

“Mmm,” he says, grabbing my face, and hauling me to him. River drops his lips to mine and kisses me hard and deep. Like he’s claiming me. The possession in this kiss floods my mind with endorphins.

He tastes a little like champagne still, but mostly like a man who’s been thoroughly kissed.

His tongue explores my mouth as he holds my cheeks. As he tugs and sucks on my lips, the reckless desire I have for him ratchets up a few more notches, then higher still.

As I moan into his kisses, he sneaks a hand to my crotch, squeezes my dick. I break the kiss. “Gimme that second-rate blow job,” I tease.

River points to the living room. “BMW time, here we come. Get this hot body in front of the fireplace stat.”

Hello, snowed-in fantasy, it is nice to meet you.

I’m going to get blown by the man of my dreams in front of a roaring fire as snow falls outside.

Winning.

He tugs his jeans up far enough to walk to the living room. Once we’re there, he slides his hands up the front of my Henley, making me tremble. Every touch melts me. As I look down at him, since he’s just a couple inches shorter, the whole moment is still so surreal.

To have his hands on me.

To see him looking at me this way.

Even after he came down my throat, it’s surreal.

But then, it’s all so incredibly real when his fingers dip under my shirt, and he touches my stomach. Shivering with pleasure, I let out a smoky sigh.

His hands journey up my abs, and he hums as he goes. “Two, four, six, eight,” he says. “Oh yes, I appreciate this eight-pack.”

I laugh, pretty happy that he likes what he feels.

Hell, pretty happy?

I am only happy.

So happy I tug off my shirt in one quick move.

River grins lasciviously at me. “Imma need you all the way naked for this, hottie,” he says as he roams his hands over my pecs, down my arms, then back the other way, retracing his motions and returning to the waistband of my jeans, still unzipped. “I need to play with this whole beautiful body and kiss you all over.”

“Be my guest,” I say, as sparks fly across my skin, as my blood runs with liquid gold. My whole world is like a fantastic dream sequence right now, with everything I’ve longed for coming true.

And it feels better than I imagined.

He grabs the blanket from the back of the couch, shakes it out like he’s a servant for a prince, then lays it on the carpet. “Welcome to my BMW Blow Job Extravaganza. Please, lie down and bask in the features of this car,” he says, with a carnal lick of his lips.

Yeah, I think I’ll like this ride.

I take off my socks, tossing them far away. “Sex with socks on is the worst.”

“It’s an erection destroyer for sure,” he says, then glances at his crotch. “See? I’m even harder now that I’m seeing you sockless.”

“I’ll just go barefoot the rest of the night then,” I say as I lie down.

He tosses me a pillow from the couch. “Make yourself comfortable, hottie.”

“Don’t mind if I do.” I settle on the pillow and park my hands behind my head.

Then River straddles me, sets his hands on either side of my chest, and dips his face to me. “Body by cake,” he muses and I chuckle, but then stop laughing as soon as his lips sweep across my pecs. He dusts gentle, sensual kisses over my chest, his tongue flicking over my nipples, and I can’t laugh anymore, because I’m already moaning, pleasure zinging along my skin.

“Yes,” I murmur since I’m not as much of a talker as he is, but I also can’t be quiet. I just can’t, not when he travels down my stomach, licking a path between my abs until he reaches the waistband of my jeans. River lifts his face, his eyes shining with lust as he says, “I want to just lick you all over. You taste so good.”

My eyes stray to my hard-on, bulging, insistent in my boxer briefs. “I’m into that, but maybe just start with my dick, River.” Then, since I bet he likes a little pleading from a lover, I arch my hips, and gasp out a throaty, “Please.”

I’m not doing it for show.

I damn well mean it.

But I also have a hunch River likes a little bit of power play.

A little begging to complement his bossiness.

“Since you asked so nicely,” he says, then pulls on my jeans, wiggling his shoulders back and forth like he’s doing a dance of gratitude for my dick.

He tugs them down my hips with a certain finesse, whistling appreciatively as he stares at my hard-on tenting my black boxer briefs.

We are a feedback loop. I watch him gazing at my face, then my chest, then the ridge of my erection. Lifting my ass, I help him along, pushing my pants and boxers down.

“Oh yes. So nice to meet you,” he says to my shaft. He takes a second to wrap a hand around my dick, and I babble incoherent words that would be bleeped out on a TV show.

Then he jerks my jeans down each leg and off.

At last.

I’m completely naked and he’s still in clothes, jeans unzipped. I’m dying to see all of him, but I don’t want to interrupt his seduction plans, since the man seems to have a sex agenda for me. River prowls up my body, a low rumble in his throat as he nears my cock.

His eyes narrow, darkening as he dips his face to me, then flicks his tongue along my shaft.

One swipe of his tongue and I nearly lose my mind.

And if that—just the trace of his mouth on me—makes me jerk and writhe, I’m going to be hitting another championship record soon. Fastest to come .

River gives me a reprieve though. “Hold on a second,” he says, then sits up on his knees, reaches for the bottom of his shirt, and rips it off.

A shaky breath falls from my lips as I drink him in. His golden skin, the perfect shade for a Californian, outdoorsy guy. His toned, lean chest and tight stomach. His trim arms, and that ink that travels from wrist to shoulder and says who he is. What he wants. How he loves.

My heart aches with longing for this man.

He stands to shed his jeans. In seconds, he’s completely naked in front of me for the first time, and I can barely breathe. As I drink him in, he kneels between my thighs again.

“God, you’re beautiful,” I say, and it comes out so reverently that I have to shut up.

I’ve got to stop talking or I will blurt out words of affection. Words of love. Words that will make it impossible to put us back to the way we were if he doesn’t want to find a new way with me.

So I push up on my elbows, thread a hand through his golden locks, then speak without words. I push his head down my body.

A light laugh comes from him. “I hear ya, cutie. I hear ya loud and clear,” River says, returning to the center of my world right now.

My aching cock.

And this man, bless him. He swirls his tongue around the crown, licking off that first drop of liquid arousal like he’s tasting his favorite cocktail.

Well.

I swallow roughly, my whole body buzzing, my bones humming, and he’s barely touching me.

Until . . . he is touching me.

And my hips roll.

And buck.

River draws me into his mouth, humming around my dick. He takes several long, indulgent strokes, flicking his tongue up and down my length as my thighs shake. I’m a firework, and he’s lit me up. I’m sparking hot and fast.

And everywhere.

Flames flicker across my body. Lust coils tight in my veins. My hands wrap around his head, but I’m not rough like he was with me. I just keep him there, where I want him, where he wants to be, enrapt in sucking me off.

I moan with every lick, grunt with every suck, and lose touch with the rest of the world every single second.

Screw the rest of the world. I want only this .

My hips buck as he lavishes sinful attention on my dick, then my balls, sucking them in his mouth while he strokes me with a tight fist, and this is not fair.

I can’t last.

I can’t survive something so good.

I don’t want this to ever stop, but I’m on the verge already.

I can’t stop moaning or saying his name. I’m a broken record panting out yes and fuck and River , and it’s all just so damn good. Just so intense as he returns his mouth to my dick, and my body heats to inferno levels. Then I burn even hotter as he slinks down, settling between my legs. Pushing them apart, he wraps his arms under my thighs, and tugs me even closer to his face.

River looks so insanely sexy, I think I might die from lust. He’s got me, and he’s taking me apart with his mouth.

His sounds electrify me.

His groans of pleasure thrill me.

And the tight wire in me snaps.

All those noises, all those moans, all that evidence of his need for me cuts my razor-thin hold on this moment, and I detonate.

“Coming,” I warn him. I curl my hands tighter around his head, and then I lose it.

Panting.

Breathing ridiculously hard.

Gasping for air.

And River delights, just utterly delights, in sucking the last remnants of my orgasm with a wet, loud pop.

He raises his face, his eyes wild, his lips red and bruised, his expression filthy.

“C’mere,” I say, beckoning.

River climbs up me, and I wrap my arms around his smooth back, pull him close. “BMW?” he asks.

I shake my head. “Bugatti.”

I kiss him again.

Tasting myself on his lips.

Tasting us.

And all at once, I’m both incredibly satisfied and terribly hungry for more.

This must be what it means to not get enough. That’s how I feel—like I just can’t get enough of him.