Read Online Power Play by Avon Gale - Free Book Online

on the bed.
    If Misha laughed at Max’s tattoos when he pulled Max’s shirt off, Max didn’t hear because he was too busy being turned on at how Misha’s hands felt on him—hot and the right kind of rough, impatient, and clearly wanting all of him now, faster, harder .
    “I want—” Max broke away from Misha’s mouth and almost moaned at the look on Misha’s face—the flush on his cheekbones and the way his eyes were so incredibly dark. “Fuck,” he said. He forgot what he was saying. He forgot everything.
    Max had always liked sex, but he never knew how desperate he could be for it. Not even at his teenage, hormone-driven worst had it ever felt so urgent. “Can I suck you? Please say yes.”
    Misha made a noise and said something in Russian. Before Max could ask what he said, Misha tangled his hand in Max’s hair, roughly pushed Max’s head down, and Max almost came in his jeans.
    He easily went where Misha was directing him, although he was distracted by the tattoos on Misha’s stomach and stopped to bite at the corded muscles there. “I don’t know what you just said, but I hope it means yes .”
    Misha tightened his hand in Max’s hair and pulled at his pajama pants. “It was ‘Yes. You can suck me. I want you to,’” Misha brought his other hand up and rubbed his thumb over Max’s bottom lip.
    Max responded by taking Misha’s cock in his hand and opening his mouth.
    The first time Max gave a blowjob was in Mexico, but he’d thought about it before that. You didn’t just down a few mojitos and change your sexuality. No way were the drinks at an all-inclusive resort that potent. And as good as it was, it wasn’t like he imagined.
    But sucking Misha’s cock—yeah, that was what he wanted from giving a blowjob. Misha muttered and moved beneath him. He pushed like he couldn’t stop himself, and his hand was in Max’s hair—too tight and almost painful. Max choked a few times, and easily, because Misha was a tall man and appropriately well-endowed. But apparently both of them liked that, because Misha moaned louder and his words were more Russian and less English. And Max’s eyes watered, but he couldn’t have cared less.
    Misha said something in Russian and did that thing with his thumb again, rubbing it over Max’s bottom lip. Max slid his mouth down lower and rubbed his hand over Misha’s balls, trying as hard as he could to make it as good as possible.
    For once I want to make you feel good, not guilty.
    Now who was being angsty? Max gave himself a mental talking-to and shut out his obnoxious inner voice. Instead he concentrated on how Misha felt and how he looked as he came apart beneath Max’s hands and Max’s mouth.
    “You—it’s good, Max. Don’t stop,” Misha panted, and that was, just possibly, the hottest thing anyone had ever said to Max in bed.
    It wasn’t long before Misha gave a low moan and tensed, his thighs shaking, and tugged at Max’s hair like he was trying to pull Max off his cock.
    Max had no intentions of doing anything but finishing, and he’d done that before, too, though admittedly the memory was a little hazy. He would remember this, though—the way Misha grabbed his head with both hands, his thighs tensing as his stomach muscles went taut, his hips snapped forward, and he came hard in Max’s mouth.
    Max sat up and felt a little smug as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He liked how out of it Misha looked, the way he threw one arm over his eyes and tried to catch his breath.
    “See. I told you I’d done it before,” Max said. He gave Misha’s long, lean form a thoroughly appreciative once-over. He really wanted to know what all the tattoos said, but his cock was hard as a rock, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to take the time to find out.
    Misha dropped his arm and then reached out and tugged at Max’s hair. “Come here.”
    Max went.
    Misha kissed him, which Max didn’t expect, considering what he’d just done. But he kissed back