Worship: On My Knees Duet, Book 1

by James, Ella

  His eyes shut for a second. Then he adds another finger…drags both out. He takes my cock into his mouth and licks and sucks me as his fingers fuck with my hole…till my hips are twisting and I’m bending my legs, panting from the need to get off.

  Then he’s moving off me. I watch as he takes his shorts down…pulls his cock out of his boxer briefs.

  I reach for him. “Put it in my mouth.”

  There’s a rumble in his throat, and then he’s scooting closer, his erection bobbing near enough so I can grab it. I trace around his perfect plum cockhead. He flinches…lets out a low groan.

  “You could be a dildo model.”

  His cheeks dimple as he smirks. “You could be the tester ass.”

  He’s got his shorts tucked behind his balls. I watch his brows crease as his hand delves into his pocket for more lube. Lust moves through me like a warm sting, starting in my cheeks and chest and settling heavy in my cock and balls. I trace a fingertip along a vein in his dick, give his tip a careful squeeze. His breaths are coming faster as he rips the package open.

  His hooded eyes reach for mine. “Good?” The word’s a soft growl.

  “Anything you want, cap’n.”

  I shut my eyes, still stroking his warm shaft, and his hand grips my base. He gives a slow stroke, then nudges my balls aside and sinks a finger in.

  “You could do this from the other way.” My voice shakes as he pushes deeper. “While I suck your dick.”

  He pulls his finger out—and shoves it back in. “Fuck.” An unexpected tremor sweeps me. He gives me a wicked grin, then stretches out beside me on his back.

  “Sit on my face. I can suck your balls and let you have a finger while you blow me.” He lifts a thick brow. “If you want to blow me.”

  “Oh, I want to blow you.”

  I get in position, my balls hanging in his face, my cock bobbing parallel with his chest. His dick is pointing upward toward his navel. I push his shaft down and out, so I can give it a popsicle lick. Then I wrap my mouth around his thick tip. He moans and lifts his ass up off the mattress, saying more. Then I feel his hot tongue moving on my sac.

  “Fuck.” I rock my hips and ease more of him into my mouth, cup his warm balls. He draws one of mine into his mouth. It’s so unexpected, I yell out. The strange—amazing—sensation makes my hips jerk, which makes his mouth tug on me.

  I groan—a hum around his cock—and feel his quads flex. Even as his mouth is groping at me, trying to take both of my balls, I inhale slowly…swallow deeper. My heart’s pounding from the strain of trying not to choke on his thickness, while wanting to shout—or come—from what he’s doing to my nuts. My legs and elbows tremble as I groan around his cock.

  Then he’s letting my sac free again. My goods throb with wanting more, but I move past it…focus on him. I amp up the blow job, doing everything to him that I like done to me. I fucking love the way his hips lift and his legs flex.

  It happens fast: with one hand, he gives my cock a squeeze. Then his lube-slick fingers push into my hole. Bliss spills through me, and I moan and sort of choke on him. He lifts his ass up off the mattress…then draws up his knees. I hear him panting even as he adds more lube and stuffs me with another finger.

  I rock back against him, cock and balls swaying as his thumb rubs over my taint. His probing fingers are magic, getting me so close that I can barely suck him, making my dick ooze onto his bare chest.

  Oh fuuuuuck. Another prod right where I need it. I moan around him, and his cock swells. His hand on my balls falls away; his fingers in me go still. Winning. I cup his balls and move my head so that I’m taking him in and out.

  Every time I’m sure he’s gonna come, he lights me up with his damn fingers. I’m grunting, so lust-drunk I can barely breathe around the girth of him. He gets me worked right to the edge, so fucking desperate my whole body’s pulsing.

  Then he thrusts his big dick into my throat, making me choke.

  It’s war.

  Finally, I feel his big balls firm up. He starts groaning like he’s gonna come. I suck harder, faster, and he slides his fingers out of me.

  “I’m gonna get up,” he says in a voice that’s strained and shaking. “You’re gonna stay bent over like that…hold the footboard.”

  I’m hit by a bolt of lust so thick and hot, I nearly come on the spot. I ease him out of my mouth, giving his tip one more teasing lick before crawling toward the footboard. My cock’s heavy. My balls wobble. I’m breathing loud and hard as I feel him behind me.

  “You’re close,” he rasps. “And so am I.”

  His thumb presses into my hole, stretching me so he can work more lube in. My knees tremble as he finger stuffs me. I can’t help a harsh groan.

  “You think you can take me, buddy?”

  His finger strokes my p-spot, and I grunt as my legs shake. Another string of cum drips to the covers.

  I can only moan in answer. Then his fingers leave me. His hand pulls my cheeks apart, and I feel his thick head against my hole.

  “Fuck.” A shudder ripples through my muscles.

  “Nice and easy…”

  His hand strokes over my ribs, and I hear him let out a breath. There’s more pressure. I inhale deeply…shut my eyes, and take him in one devastating stroke. My legs nearly give way. I’m so full. I’m grunt as he thrusts his hips and settles fully in me.

  “Fuck.”

  Too big. Chills and tremors rack me as I feel the fullness…try not to tense up. Too much. So good.

  “Vance?” His voice is choked.

  “Good.” The word sounds deep and grunted. My arms quake as I breathe deeply, relaxing limb by limb…so I can host him. Then, with one more heavy thrust, he’s in me to the hilt, so deep his balls rub up against mine.

  It’s…exquisite.

  I fall forward because my arms won’t hold me.

  He draws slowly out, each inch bringing relief…and a strange sort of panic. I move backward toward him, and his thick tip pushes back in. He grips my hips, and I’m impaled.

  “Fuck…”

  “Ahh God.” He shudders. “You’re…amazing.”

  He thrusts one more time, groaning loudly as his cock rubs up against my prostate. Cum spills on the bedding.

  He moves out…and pushes back in. And again… Again. My cock’s full and heavy, desperate to be touched—and then he hears my thoughts and rubs a finger over my head…traces my slit with a shaky finger.

  “You’re so good,” he moans. “I can’t…stay still.”

  “Don’t.”

  He pulls slowly out. I feel his hand tremble as he grips my cheek…then plunges in so deep the room spins. I feel like I need to move…but all my senses are blowing like light bulbs.

  “Vance?” His voice quakes.

  I grip the footboard, gritting my teeth as I rock against him—with him—so my cock and balls bounce. He likes that; he groans and fucks me hard and deep.

  “Aghh.” More cum spills from my tip. “I’m gonna...come.”

  He groans as he draws out, then slams in. My legs tremble wildly.

  Each thrust from him gets me further gone…until I’m nothing but this pleasure and our loud groans, my shouts every time he comes in heavy. Then he fills me good and stays there. My whole body flushes as his hand strokes my balls.

  “Vance…”

  His cock draws out, then bursts back in. Sweet warmth fills me. I jet like a bursting dam onto the duvet.

  Six

  Luke

  For a few forevers, I’m there on my knees—my eyes squeezed shut, my body pulsing like a star. Blood booms in my head as my chest pumps and my heart gallops.

  This…this…this. It beats through me like a chant, this epiphany that isn’t new. This is what I need to live life. Even as I staunch the flood of my emotions, I can feel it burdening the levy. I’m caught somewhere aching for a too-long moment…but I work my way out.

  When at last I lift my eyes open, I see that Vance is lying face-down, one hand
over his head. I stretch out beside him…wrap an arm over his hard, sweat-damp back. When he doesn’t move, I lean back on my elbow, cup my hand around the back of his head. It’s warm—sweaty. His big body radiates heat.

  For a heady second I just drink him in. This man. I was with him.

  I lower my cheek to his shoulder, brush my mouth over his damp skin. The motion gives him chills. Something in my belly tightens.

  “You okay?” It sounds rough.

  He shifts onto his side. I get the briefest glimpse of his mouth curving, feel the warm heat of his heavy-lidded gaze. Then he’s wrapping me against him…his arm squeezing so my cheek presses against his damp throat. I can hear his heartbeat, fast and steady.

  His arm flexes around my back, and I hear him swallow. “I’m good,” he rumbles. “Are you?”

  I nod.

  His lips brush over my hair. Then his leg wedges between mine. I feel his chest expand as he takes in a deep breath, blows it out. He chuckles, hoarse. “That was crazy. Felt amazing.” His hand strokes my back, gentle fingers tracing ridges of muscle. “You all good, my man?”

  My throat is so tight I can barely breathe. I bite my cheek until it stings, and take a deep, slow breath. “Yeah.”

  This is the only time you’ll ever do this. Make it count, Luke.

  I inhale again, filling my head with his scent. I kiss his chest…because I can. His fingers stroke my nape. Then his fingertips are rubbing. He knows where to put the pressure. Everywhere he touches screams with pleasure-pain.

  Despite myself, I let a groan out.

  “Sore there?” Rough whisper.

  I swallow. He rubs, and I drag another big breath in.

  His voice is soft and gentle as his fingers rub me. “How much are you home, dude?”

  “All together…travel like three and a half, four months out of the year.”

  “So you’re kind of tired, huh?”

  Always. It’s the price of my work. One of them.

  “You a pretty peaceful flyer?”

  I drag in a deep, unsteady breath as his hand moves down my shoulder. He rubs at a spot that’s tender, so it hurts and feels good. So good, I can’t answer at first. “Not at all,” I manage with a laugh.

  I feel his chest move on a silent chuckle. “Well, shit.” He hugs me closer with one arm as his hand keeps rubbing my sore shoulder. He hits a spot that makes me moan.

  I can hear his smile as he says, “College acupressure, baby. A-plus student right here.”

  I swallow as my eyelids grow heavy. “Feels good.”

  His hand keeps working, and my eyelids sag shut. I tell myself don’t fall asleep. I’ve been wanting this for months, and this is all I’m going to get of him. Gotta hold me over for a long time…

  * * *

  Strong arms pull me closer…wrap me up against his warm chest. Vance. I know it’s him because he feels good. I let sleep tug me back under.

  Hands in my hair…his lips on my forehead. I lift my eyelids open, see his Adam’s apple. His throat. Smells good.

  I’m hard.

  He shifts closer, and my face presses against his soft shirt. He’s rubbing my hair. I want to push my dick against him. I let myself go back under…

  Sometime later, his voice pushes through the ether. “Somebody’s a sleepyhead.”

  I blink up to find him smiling. His hair’s damp. His nice Vance eyes are bright and teasing. I shut my eyes…tighten my grip. I’m holding onto him…one arm around his waist, the other locked around his back. I realize our legs are intertwined and my heart beats off-rhythm. “Fell asleep.” My voice is rough with sleep. His hand cradles my head to his chest.

  “I was debating when to get you up. But this feels so damn good. Are you a snuggler?”

  My chest feels heavy. Like something’s pushing on it.

  “No.” I draw my arms back to myself and shut my eyes. Just one more second. Then I roll onto my back. I drape an arm over my eyes. The air feels cold without him. I inhale and feel my body coming back…my normal heart beats faster as I look over at him. He’s looking at me.

  “Glad you got some Zs.” His mouth is soft and curving. I sit up and stare at the wall.

  Keep it steady. Not gonna lose my grip. I get up off the bed. When my feet touch the floor, I snatch a strained breath into my lungs.

  “Hey—”

  “I’ve gotta go.” I scoop my boxer-briefs off the rug. Step into them. I’m still halfway hard. With my back to him, I fist my erection—hard enough to hurt. My heart starts racing as I tell him, “This was just a one-time thing.” I suck a breath in through my nose. I’ve got my back to him—so he can’t see my face. I swallow hard and shut my eyes. “A mistake.”

  My throat cinches on the word. I grasp my shorts with rubber hands and somehow pull them on. I think I feel his eyes burn into my back. I wait for his anger, for some clap-back. When it doesn’t come, I feel a wash of cold panic that leaves me fuzzy at the edges. Gotta do this, I tell myself. Can’t stay.

  When I’m dressed, I turn and find him standing by the bedroom door, wearing an undershirt and dark jeans. His face is calm. He even looks relaxed.

  “It’s all good, brother. Good time had by all, yeah?” He nods toward the hall, and I follow him through the den, to the front door, which he pushes open for me. Cold air hits my warm cheeks. His arm flexes as he holds the door.

  I take the stairs two at a time.

  “This is under lock and key,” he says as we crunch leaves en route to my car. “Don’t worry about me. Ever. Okay?”

  He’s right beside me, by the car door. I pull the thing open. I turn toward to him—to say something—but no words come. Instead, my neck and face flush, and my legs feel cold and shaky. I sink into the driver’s seat and look up at him. He leans on the doorframe, looking down at me with moonlight pooled in his eyes. Time is moving fast and too slow all at once.

  He leans in a little, but he doesn’t crouch down so we’re level.

  “Thanks for meeting me here.” His mouth is a line, but he tucks the corners up a little for me. “Have a safe drive back.”

  His hand moves toward me, like he’s going for a hand-shake. Instead, he clasps my shoulder—giving it a gentle squeeze.

  Something shifts in my chest, like a ball starting to roll. I see my hand reach for him. See my fist grip his shirt. It rips as I pull him down to me.

  I hear myself say, “I lied.” Then our mouths meet.

  Seven

  Vance

  He’s a liar. Yes, he is. He’s a liar and he’s scared—but I’ve got him. I’ve got his seat back, and I’m straddling his hips. I’m rubbing up against him through the fabric of our pants and kissing his neck like I want him to remember me.

  I press my cheek against his, breathing fast and heavy. “Don’t be scared, man. It’s just you and me.” I bite his throat so that he doesn’t try to answer. I love the hoarse noise he makes. I run my fingers into his blond hair and tug the short locks. His eyes hold mine as our mouths meet again. We both groan as the kiss deepens.

  I don’t know why it’s like this with us—everything electric, every damn touch supercharged until it hurts. It’s undeniable, insensible. And I have to have it.

  I reach down between his legs and press the button so the driver’s seat will slide back, giving me the space I need to take his pants down. I grin as his cock springs up—and mine throbs where it’s tucked against my lower belly.

  “Ready to leave, huh?” I start stroking him, and he starts moaning. I lean down, barely able to bend enough to get his head into my mouth—but I do, and he makes a ragged, desperate sound.

  I work his boxer-briefs back up over his stiff erection, pulling them over the hose of his cock and rubbing through the cotton.

  “Fix your pants and meet me inside, McDowell.”

  I walk to the porch with long strides, panting as I step into the house. My heart is pounding like a drum. Maybe he won’t follow. I look through the partly open door, and there
he is. I can see his boner tenting his pants as he comes up the stairs.

  As soon as he’s inside, I push him up against the door—the way he had me—and take his perfect angel face in my hands. I kiss him long and soft…then hard enough to hurt…and then drop down to worship his erection.

  I suck him a few times then work him with my hand. “I’m the first one, aren’t I?”

  I suck one of balls into my mouth, and he grunts.

  “Doesn’t matter,” I whisper from base to tip.

  “You want one night, I can give you a night. Just don’t say it’s a fucking mistake.”

  I go at him hard and heavy—blowing him so good he slides down the door. When he’s on the floor, his knees raised with me between them, I rub behind his balls and stroke his sac and work his cock till he’s on his back moaning.

  He’s so close…but I prolong it just because I want to. Because with guys, I’m usually the top. I can bottom for him, but I sort of want to make him suffer for it—even just this once.

  He comes with a lion’s roar. I swallow it down, and then he’s dragging me back to the bedroom. We fuck again, this time with me riding his lap.

  Afterward, we get into the shower. He pulls me against his chest and holds me tight under the hot spray. After that, he’s soulful eyes and princely lips and damp, warm skin. Something’s different in him. I don’t know what.

  I take his hand and lead him through the house. I twine my fingers through his and stop at the front door.

  “You trust me?”

  He nods, and I lead him down the porch and over the grass and leaves and to a rowboat I left waiting on the sand shore of the little pond. Inside, there’s a blanket and a basket.

  “Your hoodie’s on the bench.” I flash him a grin as I grip the oars. He sits on the slab of wood across the boat and pulls my sweatshirt into his lap. Nothing special, just a dark gray zip-up hoodie that I wear around—mostly to a co-op where I rent some art space. Still, I get a little rush when he slips it on.