Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 82543 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 413(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82543 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 413(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
Peyton licks over my slit and then closes his mouth around the head and sucks.
“Holy fuck, Pey.” I throw my head back.
He pulls off. “Is that a good holy fuck or an ‘ouch, don’t bite my dick off’ kind of holy fuck? It was hard to tell if that was pleasure or pain.”
I chuckle. “Good kind. I promise. Don’t overthink it. Just do what you like being done to you.”
“Show me what you like first.”
“Show you?”
“On me.” His voice is barely above a whisper.
I smile and drop to my knees between Peyton’s legs. “A blowjob’s a blowjob, and I will like anything you do, but if you want ideas …” I run my hands up his thighs and love how they tense under my fingertips. “I like it when hands get involved too.”
I cup his balls with one hand while stroking the base of his dick with the other. Peyton’s breath becomes stilted, and when I lower my head, taking him in my mouth, he stops breathing completely.
His cock is heavy in my mouth, his taste salty and heady, but I’m too busy focusing on his reactions to enjoy it.
There’s nothing sexier than the noises a man makes while I’m going down on him, and Peyton doesn’t disappoint. The only thing I’m self-conscious of is if I moan in return, it might pull him back to reality. That he’s being blown by a guy.
I glance up at him, and all those negative thoughts float away when we lock eyes. He’s watching what I’m doing to him, his gaze laser-focused on me. He’s definitely not imagining I’m someone else, let alone pretending I’m a girl.
I’ve always been wary of hooking up with bicurious guys because of that. There’s a difference between a bi guy who knows who he is and a newbie trying dick because of curiosity. And maybe that’s a double standard because the last time I was with Peyton, we were both that inexperienced guy, and I did to him exactly what I’m scared of Peyton doing to me: I pretended our experience didn’t mean anything.
And that has the ability to cut deep.
Peyton didn’t even hook up with another guy because of it.
I want to make it all up to him now, give him the experiences he’s been holding out on because of something stupid eighteen-year-old me did, and as I lower my head again and let out that moan I’ve been trying to keep in, his thighs tense, and he shudders.
With that insecurity out of the way, I’m able to give him my whole focus.
I stroke him while I bob my head and play with his balls with my other hand, squeezing and releasing.
He quivers and squirms like he’s trying not to thrust upward into my mouth, and I set myself the goal of driving him to the point where he can’t help himself.
I get my wish when my pinkie finger slips behind his sac and presses against his hole. Peyton’s hips jackknife off the bed, but I’m prepared for when his cock touches the back of my throat. I leave my finger where it is, slowly teasing his rim with no intention of taking it further than that.
This is enough. He’s exactly where I want him. He grips my hair tight and moves in and out of my mouth without any help from me.
Each time he thrusts inside, Peyton tries to cover a grunt, and it comes out as a strained cry. I love it.
The taste of sticky precum hits my tongue, and I drink it eagerly.
“Levi,” Peyton breathes. He sounds desperate and like he’s clinging to the edge. “If you don’t … Fuck. I’m gonna … unless you move away. Nrgh.”
I try not to laugh around his dick. I pull off slowly but with a hard suck. Peyton shudders again. And when my mouth leaves him, my hand takes over for it because I’m not going to let him come down from this until he’s unleashing in my mouth.
“Did you want something?” I ask.
He nods. Then shakes his head.
“Great direction there, Pey. Very clear and succinct.”
Peyton throws his head back, looking up at the roof before meeting my gaze again. “Only a Vanderbilt would use the word succinct during a blowjob.”
Reminding me of my last name is not the sexiest thing in the world, but Peyton’s flushed skin, his rapid breathing, and the way he looks like he could fall apart at any moment outweighs the family minefield.
As if unable to hold himself up anymore, he falls backward on the bed, his legs still hanging off the end.
“You want my mouth or my hand when you come?” I ask.
His abs contract, so I take the opportunity to lean forward and lick along the hard lines between his six-pack.
“Fuck. I want both. All. Nothing. God, I want to come.”