Ice Man by KyAnn Waters Page A

his tongue around the soft flesh and took him into his mouth, cocooning him in wet heat. Opening wider, he took all of him until his nose pressed against Rowan’s flesh, drinking in the arousing musky male scent of his crotch. Instantly the flesh within his mouth became firmer. He held him against his tongue until the stiffness forced him to part his lips. He slowly pulled back then took his erection deep, to the throat and just a fraction farther.
    Rowan groaned, his toes curled and his hand cupped the back of Brett’s head. Brett lifted his gaze. A contented smile curved Rowan’s mouth and his half-lidded eyes fixed on Brett.
    “Good morning.” Rowan bent his knees and widened his legs with his feet flat on the mattress.
    Brett hummed and continued to suck the length then lower to twirl his tongue over his smooth balls. He lifted his head and kissed the tender skin of his pelvis, higher to trace a circle with his tongue around his navel.
    “I should have let you sleep,” he slid between Rowan’s thighs, “but you looked so damn good on my bed.”
    “And you can’t control yourself. You have to fuck me.”
    Brett moaned his agreement as he rasped his tongue over Rowan’s flat brown nipple. “Tell me you want my cock.”
    Rowan arched on the bed. With arms outstretched, Brett braced above him. They aligned cock to cock, chest to chest, face-to-face.
    There were condoms and a bottle of lube on the bedside table. Rowan grabbed the condoms, tore one from the strip then ripped it open. He reached between their bodies, grasped Brett’s rod at the base and with touch alone, sheathed him in latex. Then he squirted lube into his palm. Brett clenched his teeth, enduring the sweet torture of having Rowan’s fingers caressing his cock, slicking him with cream.
    Rowan shifted his own balls and inched lower. His eyes closed and he rolled his hips. He creamed his own hole, circling the rosette then sliding his finger into his own rectum. He groaned, widened his thighs and plunged deeper.
    “God, do you know how fucking hot that is?” Brett placed his hand over Rowan’s, pressing both their fingers into his hole, sliding in and out. Rowan moaned, his rim tightening, clamping against their joined fingers.
    “I want your cock. Please fuck me.”
    “If you want me, take me.”
    With gentle pressure, Rowan wrapped his fingers around Brett’s cock and, arching his pelvis, fit the head to his hole. Brett held his breath. His abdominals tightened and he penetrated an inch, pushing past the resistance of his rim.
    “Oh God, more.” Rowan tried to impale himself, undulating his hips.
    Brett lifted Rowan’s right leg to his shoulder, clamping a hand over his shin to hold him. “You want fucked?”
    “Yes,” he hissed.
    “Hard?”
    “Yes.” Desperation laced his plea.
    Brett lifted the other leg to the same position then leveraged higher, his cock slowly sank into Rowan. One long delicious slide into heaven. Once seated to the root, he eased back and reveled in the fiery licks of pleasure caressing his shaft and he stretched Rowan, filling him full of cock.
    Rowan’s head thrashed on the pillow.
    “Feel good?”
    “Fuck you. Fuck me!”
    Brett tightened his hold on Rowan’s legs and slightly lifted as he thrust his hips. Exquisite pressure skated along his length. As much as Rowan wanted him to pound his ass, cram his cock in fierce thrusts, he took it slow, savoring the connection.
    Brett wanted control, demanded it. Being inside Rowan, having him under him or over him was the most powerful aphrodisiac he’d ever known—knowing he gave as much pleasure as he took.
    He increased his speed and depth. Pounding strokes sent shivers over him. Rowan’s ass was ecstasy. His mewling whimpers spurred Brett on. Rowan’s legs dropped to the crook of Brett’s elbows, spreading his thighs wider. Brett leaned back and watched his cock slip in and out of Rowan’s ass. Wet and hot. Internal tissues milked his shaft. Tingles