off just as slowly.
“So pretty,” Wyatt murmured, his lips dancing along the side of the needy rod as he spoke.
“Wyatt, you’re killing me.”
“You want this as much as I do. Might as well take you to hell with me.”
Oak fisted his hair, trying to tug the other man back into place. Wyatt chuckled, but took the urged suggestion.
“I’ll suck you,” he promised. “Later I’ll take my time exploring every inch of your tight body. Understood?”
Oak nodded in jerky movements then butted his tip to Wyatt’s smiling lips.
Wyatt opened and threw delicacy to the wind as he took him in one quick swallow. Oak shuddered on a bone-deep groan. Wyatt’s lips rubbed up and down his dick, cheeks hollowing on each withdrawal. Oak sank into the sensations, the sight of the man he wanted more than anything going down on him, the friction, the heat—his head swam with it.
Wyatt slipped the side of his hand lower, coasting over the hidden entrance several times before pushing a finger in. They both groaned at the same time. He plucked the tight ring of muscles as he increased the rhythm on Oak’s cock.
Oak didn’t resist the urge to thrust, though he held himself back from the fucking he really wanted to give. Wyatt didn’t seem to mind. He swallowed deep and held. With his other hand he pulled Oak tight to his face while he constricted his throat.
Dear God, Oak would explode. Any pretense of consideration flew the coop. He grabbed the man’s head in both hands and slammed his hips in, rocking hard as he fucked Wyatt’s face with every pent up fantasy he’d had.
Wyatt took it. His eyes watered, yet he stayed in place, adding a second finger and popping the anal ring. Suddenly he pressed in three fingers and hooked them rapidly over Oak’s prostate.
Cum erupted from him. Stinging in its speed, pleasure emptied his balls into Wyatt’s throat. He pulled out enough to let him breath before rocking out the final squirts along his tongue.
Chapter Seven
Wyatt got to his feet. This was a bad idea, he knew it, but he no longer cared. Not now, maybe not later. He’d deal with it then, if his conscience got the better of him. He took the wrappered square out of his pocket, smiling that Oak had provided him with the item they’d need moments later.
He undid his pants and pushed them just below his balls. He didn’t have time to undress. He needed to be inside Oak. Now.
Fumbling with the condom, he managed to get it rolled over his length before he hooked one of Oak’s legs and lifted it. Wyatt spat into his hand several times to wet the condom. In a matter of seconds he was blissfully balls deep. Oak grunted, offering no other complaint.
The glove-like heat of his partner’s son pulsed around his dick. This was wrong, so wrong. He’d never felt anything more perfect. He kissed Oak, taking precious time to feel his mouth. No longer in a rush to prove how much Oak got to him, he settled in to a slow rhythm and soft, layered kisses.
Oak got under his shirt, touching him everywhere, wrapping around him and holding him close. Lips, tongue, shuddering breath wove together in a spell.
“I shouldn’t be fucking you,” he murmured between kisses.
“Yeah, you should.”
“Your dad would kill me.”
“Don’t ask his permission,” Oak countered.
Wyatt gave a breathy chuckle. Every slow slide enveloped his cock, teased him closer. He wanted this to go slowly, didn’t want it to be over too soon even though it meant denying himself a badly needed finish.
“I’ve loved you too long to let what they want worry me,” Oak whispered. Wyatt stilled. “Loved?”
Realization widened the other man’s eyes as a flush tinged his cheeks. “Don’t stop. Please,” he rasped.
Loved? Did he want that, Wyatt asked himself. Was that wise? He started up again, giving an additional lift to hit Oak’s sweet spot on each thrust.
“Don’t think about it,” Oak told him.
“Too late.”
Oak took his face in his hands. “Look at me. Feel me.
“So pretty,” Wyatt murmured, his lips dancing along the side of the needy rod as he spoke.
“Wyatt, you’re killing me.”
“You want this as much as I do. Might as well take you to hell with me.”
Oak fisted his hair, trying to tug the other man back into place. Wyatt chuckled, but took the urged suggestion.
“I’ll suck you,” he promised. “Later I’ll take my time exploring every inch of your tight body. Understood?”
Oak nodded in jerky movements then butted his tip to Wyatt’s smiling lips.
Wyatt opened and threw delicacy to the wind as he took him in one quick swallow. Oak shuddered on a bone-deep groan. Wyatt’s lips rubbed up and down his dick, cheeks hollowing on each withdrawal. Oak sank into the sensations, the sight of the man he wanted more than anything going down on him, the friction, the heat—his head swam with it.
Wyatt slipped the side of his hand lower, coasting over the hidden entrance several times before pushing a finger in. They both groaned at the same time. He plucked the tight ring of muscles as he increased the rhythm on Oak’s cock.
Oak didn’t resist the urge to thrust, though he held himself back from the fucking he really wanted to give. Wyatt didn’t seem to mind. He swallowed deep and held. With his other hand he pulled Oak tight to his face while he constricted his throat.
Dear God, Oak would explode. Any pretense of consideration flew the coop. He grabbed the man’s head in both hands and slammed his hips in, rocking hard as he fucked Wyatt’s face with every pent up fantasy he’d had.
Wyatt took it. His eyes watered, yet he stayed in place, adding a second finger and popping the anal ring. Suddenly he pressed in three fingers and hooked them rapidly over Oak’s prostate.
Cum erupted from him. Stinging in its speed, pleasure emptied his balls into Wyatt’s throat. He pulled out enough to let him breath before rocking out the final squirts along his tongue.
Chapter Seven
Wyatt got to his feet. This was a bad idea, he knew it, but he no longer cared. Not now, maybe not later. He’d deal with it then, if his conscience got the better of him. He took the wrappered square out of his pocket, smiling that Oak had provided him with the item they’d need moments later.
He undid his pants and pushed them just below his balls. He didn’t have time to undress. He needed to be inside Oak. Now.
Fumbling with the condom, he managed to get it rolled over his length before he hooked one of Oak’s legs and lifted it. Wyatt spat into his hand several times to wet the condom. In a matter of seconds he was blissfully balls deep. Oak grunted, offering no other complaint.
The glove-like heat of his partner’s son pulsed around his dick. This was wrong, so wrong. He’d never felt anything more perfect. He kissed Oak, taking precious time to feel his mouth. No longer in a rush to prove how much Oak got to him, he settled in to a slow rhythm and soft, layered kisses.
Oak got under his shirt, touching him everywhere, wrapping around him and holding him close. Lips, tongue, shuddering breath wove together in a spell.
“I shouldn’t be fucking you,” he murmured between kisses.
“Yeah, you should.”
“Your dad would kill me.”
“Don’t ask his permission,” Oak countered.
Wyatt gave a breathy chuckle. Every slow slide enveloped his cock, teased him closer. He wanted this to go slowly, didn’t want it to be over too soon even though it meant denying himself a badly needed finish.
“I’ve loved you too long to let what they want worry me,” Oak whispered. Wyatt stilled. “Loved?”
Realization widened the other man’s eyes as a flush tinged his cheeks. “Don’t stop. Please,” he rasped.
Loved? Did he want that, Wyatt asked himself. Was that wise? He started up again, giving an additional lift to hit Oak’s sweet spot on each thrust.
“Don’t think about it,” Oak told him.
“Too late.”
Oak took his face in his hands. “Look at me. Feel me.
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