Page 37 of Locked & Loaded

He’s thick, the head dark and slick, his cock curving up toward his stomach. The sight of him—hard and huge and mine to touch—makes my own cock twitch embarrassingly.

Mads wraps one hand around the base of his cock, his grip firm, and catches my chin with the other. He doesn’t force me closer. He only tilts my face up, his thumb brushing over my lower lip, and I open for him without being asked.

His thumb slides inside, and I suck it lightly, watching his eyes go darker as his breath catches. It’s such a small thing, but somehow it feels obscene. Intimate.

When he pulls his thumb out, I let my tongue slip out for him and wait.

His gaze drops to my mouth again.

“Fuck,” he mutters.

Then, like he can’t wait any longer, he drags the head of his cock across my mouth.

The slick heat of him smears over my lips and tongue, and I open wider when he nudges against me, waiting for him to give us both what we want.

Finally, he pushes forward, the head of his cock sliding inside, and the taste of him pulls a groan out of my chest. The sound vibrates against his skin, and his hand tightens in my hair.

I take him deeper in one motion, my lips stretching around his girth, and his cock hits the back of my throat before he’s ready for it. He makes another sound—half gasp, half groan—and his hips jerk forward.

I don’t choke. I know how to do this. I relax my throat, my nose pressing against the short, coarse hair at the base of his cock, and his whole body goes rigid.

“Holy fuck,” he breathes.

I pull back until only the head is in my mouth, then take him deep again, setting a rhythm that has his thighs tremble beneath my hands. My tongue drags along the underside of his cock on every downstroke, and the taste of him—salt and skin—fills my mouth until it’s all I can think about.

After a few minutes, Mads is breathing hard, both hands buried in my hair, but he still isn’t thrusting. He holds himself almost perfectly still, his hips trembling with the effort of it, like he’s afraid one wrong move will make him come too soon.

His control is fucking hot.

I bob my head faster, taking him deeper on every stroke, and he makes a sound I’ve never heard from him before. Raw. Desperate. Almost pained. His fingers tighten in my hair hard enough to sting, and heat shoots straight through me.

I do it again, slow, letting my throat open for him, and his cock pulses against my tongue.

That’s when his control finally cracks.

His hips give one hard, involuntary thrust, shoving him deeper than before, and he gasps, his voice breaking.

“Stop—Chris—fuck, I’m too close—”

I pull off him completely, my lips dragging along his length until he slips from my mouth. He’s panting, his chest heaving, hands shaking, his cock throbbing in the cool air.

I’ve barely started, and he’s already falling apart.

The knowledge goes straight to my ego, and I’m not proud of it, but fuck it, I’m allowed. Mads Holm, the most composed man I’ve ever met, reduced to a trembling, cursing mess by my mouth. I want to frame this moment and hang it on my wall.

He reaches for me then, pulling me up by my shoulders. His grip is gentle despite the urgency, and the contrast twists in my chest. One second I’m on my knees, and the next I’m back on the bed, in his arms, his mouth crushing against mine.

The kiss is messy and hungry, his tongue in my mouth, and I know he can taste himself on me—the salt of his precum, the faint musk of his skin.

He groans against my lips and pulls the robe off me in one quick motion. The fabric slides down my arms and pools on the carpet, and suddenly I’m naked in front of him, the cool air raising goosebumps across my skin.

Mads leans back and looks at me.

His gaze travels down my body—my chest, my stomach, my cock hard and leaking against my thigh—and the expression on his face is something I’ll probably think about on my deathbed. Hungry. Reverent, almost. Like he can’t believe I’m letting him see me like this.

“Get on the bed,” he says, his voice wrecked. “Hands and knees.”

The command sends a shiver through me.