Read L. A. Witt - Rules 1 - Rules of Engagement Online
Authors: LA Witt
A familiar ache caught my attention. Christ, it hadn’t been that long since he’d sucked me off against the pool table, but I was already hard again.
No one
had ever turned me on like this.
I ran my tongue up the shaft of his cock and circled my tongue around the head a couple of times. Then I moved up to kiss him, but before I even had a chance to position myself over him, he lifted himself up and met me halfway, kissing me passionately. Together, we sank onto the bed, arms around each other, tongues intertwined.
As badly as I wanted to fuck him, I couldn’t stop kissing him. His kiss drove me insane. Every touch of his lips and taste of his tongue made me want him that much more, but it made it that much harder for me to pull myself away, even if it was just long enough to get a condom.
Without breaking the kiss, I reached for the nightstand, fumbling blindly for the bottle of lube and a condom. My hand was shaking as I found the handle on the drawer, but I managed to get it open and finally found what I was looking for. Even then, with condom and lube in hand, I couldn’t make myself stop kissing him.
I turned to tear the condom wrapper with my teeth, moaning softly when he raised his head and kissed my neck as his hands ran up my back. Goose bumps prickled my skin, and I closed my eyes, shivering as he kissed beneath my ear.
I tried to speak but forgot how when he sucked my earlobe into his mouth. I turned my head, gently nudging him away, but as soon as his breath warmed my skin, I couldn’t resist and kissed him again.
Shifting my weight onto one arm, I rolled the condom on with an unsteady hand. When it was on, I lifted myself off of him, hesitating once, twice, and again to completely pull away. Eventually, my need to be inside him overshadowed my need to kiss him, and we finally managed to change positions. I opened the bottle of lube as Brandon turned onto his hands and knees.
Whatever nervousness I had about being with a man had
nothing
on the anticipation that made my head spin and my hands unsteady as I pressed my cock against Brandon’s ass. Just hours ago, I’d wondered if this was wrong, but as I held onto his hips and slowly pushed into him, I knew that the only thing that could possibly be wrong was the fact that I’d waited so long to do it again.
I wanted to tell him how much I loved it, but speech was lost to me, especially as the view—broad shoulders, muscles rippling under the dragon tattoo, the tremors running through him every time I took a stroke—mesmerized me. Strokes turned into thrusts, and he whispered my name, begging for more.
He shifted his weight onto one arm. Then his hand came up and grabbed mine, pulling it around his waist to his cock. I rested my other hand on the bed, bracing myself as I thrust from the hips and stroked his cock.
“I won’t, don’t worry,” I growled, fucking him harder, stroking him faster. Every tremor that rippled through him, every breath he couldn’t quite draw properly, every helpless sound he made, every bead of sweat that rolled between the grooves of his muscles, all of it aroused me like nothing I’d ever experienced.
“Oh God,” he groaned. His back arched against my chest and he tightened around my cock, nearly taking me over the edge with him. “Oh God, Dustin….” I fucked him even harder, his moans and shudders sending me even higher.
He turned slightly, reaching over his shoulder, sliding his hand around the back of my neck as I leaned in to kiss him. As soon as I tasted his tongue, I didn’t stand a chance. My orgasm caught me by surprise, and I broke the kiss with a gasp and a shudder. He rocked against me, fucking me from below. I tried to keep contact with his lips, tried to breathe, but all I could do was surrender to an orgasm that was too intense to be real.
As the last few shivers worked their way up my spine, I closed my eyes and let my forehead rest on his shoulder. “Oh my God,” I whispered.
“Mine too. Give me a few minutes.”
“Will do. But in ten minutes, you have to do it again.”
I shrugged, playing with his hair. “I’m a gym rat, so it was a job that let me spend most of my time there.”
“Had nothing at all to do with checking people out when they’re working out?”
“Please,” I said. “Maybe it’s just a ridiculous fetish, but I think it’s hot watching someone work out.”
“Really? Do tell.”
My cheeks burned. “It’s stupid, I’m sure, but….” I cleared my throat. “Think about it: they’re hot, they’re sweaty, they’re out of breath—”
“Just like when they’re having sex.”
“Just like when they’re having
wild, dirty
sex.”
He blinked. “I think I chose the wrong line of work.” I laughed. “I once did a training session with a girl I was dating.
I couldn’t imagine how many shades of red I was turning. “It didn’t help that we were flirting while she was lifting, but the more she did, the hotter it got. When she caught me checking her out while she was doing pushups, we….” I laughed. “We decided to forego weightlifting and go straight into cardio.”
“Oh honestly, you could,” he said. “I’m sure you could behave as a professional the entire time.”
“You overestimate my ability to think with my brain in the presence of sexiness.”
He kissed me, then laughed. “Believe me, I understand.” “Oh?”
“So,” he said, “he ended up in one of my classes. Thank God he didn’t know that I wanted to jump his bones, but he and everyone else must have thought I was a bumbling idiot. Try lecturing about protein synthesis when all you can think of is the sexy guy in the front row.”
“Don’t you dare,” I laughed.
Leaning over me, he kissed the underside of my jaw. “Or what?”
I grabbed his shoulders and flipped him onto his back. “Or I may have to put you in your place.”
He grinned. “Oh, right, I’m in bed with a Marine. How could I forget?”
He winked. “Promise?”
“You really have a thing for Marines, don’t you?”
“You’re damn right I do.” He gave me a devilish look. “I don’t
suppose I could talk you into your uniforms again, could I?” “You might be able to talk me
out
of them.”
“Pfft, what fun is that?” he laughed. “I’ll warn you right now: I have a serious thing for men in camouflage. Especially camouflage pants.”
But….” He paused, chewing his lip.
“What?”
He shook his head. “No, you’d probably laugh.”
“Try me.”
His cheeks colored a little. “Would you laugh at me if I told you that I have even more of a thing for dog tags?”
I blinked. “Really?”
“Yeah. It probably borders on a fetish, to be honest.” He laughed. “A set of dog tags on a chest like—” He paused. “Well, on a chest like yours. I can’t help it. Gets me every time.”
“So if I got a tattoo on my chest of a set of camouflaged dog tags, you’d—”
“Probably hurt you.”
He chuckled. “Well, as long as we’re confessing our dirty little desires….” His expression was surprisingly serious, almost shy. “Listen, I want to ask, but….”
“I know this is all new to you, being with a man, all of that, so I won’t push it, but I have to say….” He paused, looking at me as if waiting for some kind of reaction or resistance. “Would you ever consider….” He dropped his eyes for a second, then looked at me and said, “Switching?”
He laughed and ran his fingers up my arm. “If you’re not comfortable with it, it’s okay. But if you decide you want to, just say the word.”
“You want to enjoy the ride once in a while too?”
“It’s not that,” he said. “I like giving and receiving. But honestly….” He pushed himself up onto his arms and moved closer to me, kissing me lightly. “I want you to feel what it’s like when you fuck me.”
“Dustin, it’s fucking incredible,” he said. “I’m serious. There’s nothing like it.” He kissed me again, this time lingering a moment longer. “I want you to feel what you make me feel.”
My heart thudded. I was curious, I had to admit, but that was a bit farther out of my comfort zone than I was willing to go just yet. “If I change my mind, you’ll be the first to know.”
“Sweet.” He kissed me gently as he nudged me onto my back. “But between now and then….” His hand drifted down my side, and his erection pressed against my hip.
“Again?” I laughed against his lips.
“You don’t want to?”
I put my arms around him. “I didn’t say that.”
brother, Rick, was getting married in a week, so I took him out on Friday night for his bachelor party. Tristan, our younger brother, met us there with several friends.
“Ready to put on the ol’ ball and chain?” Tristan asked as we walked into the strip club.
“Hey now, it’s my last hurrah as a free man,” Rick laughed. “Let’s not talk about my life sentence tonight.”
“Oh please.” Tristan rolled his eyes. “It’s not like you
didn’t
drink at yours.”
“I never said I didn’t, just that I wasn’t supposed to.”
“Just don’t tell Mom,” I said. We laughed and joined the rest of his friends at a table beside the stage. There were a couple of guys I’d never met, but I knew Troy and Steve from high school, and Dan’s family had been friends with ours since time immemorial. These were, for the most part, familiar faces.