Black Knights and Vodka
“Can I?” Amused and eager, his smile spoke of nothing loose morals and sweet anticipation. The Scottish transfer had made a show of teasing his prick for far too long. Now that she was so close to the actual thing, Leo felt himself less keen on waiting like a flaccid gentleman. “My blood’s thick as…well blood,” he gave a light thump to his chest and took another generous sip of the contraband.
A heaved breath of overdone frustration burst from his lips, tsking at her denial. “Not right now, she says, hovering over the mans sizable and tortured semi.” He shifted just barely beneath her, looking for that attention on his undercarriage, his smile shameless and flaunting. “I’m telling you black, I’d rock your world. Only a few things I’m good at and I promise, this is one.” For all his flaws and all his selfish needs, this part of the German was not present between a woman’s thighs. “I’m a giver.”
Leo shook his head, “Not shocked, I just didn’t know.” The fool who would call Leo Raske observant would be just that -a fool and he knew Ryder’s lack of such understanding was merely a lack of care. Wild and fearless were her words, exactly what made her a presence he longed for. “I get it man, sex is sex.” Hi eyes trained on her lips, “Guy or Girl, your parts don’t make it much better or worse alone.” He shrugged, a hand moving from behind his neck to the side of the bed, flexing his fingers in a pained curl. “You go ahead and tell me, yeah. I’ll find a way to see ‘em later.” A hand fell beside her thigh, brushing the jean material, still but not without intent.
For the first time since he’d known the red head, Leo raked her figure with something absent of lust. Mischievous, yes, but not outright lust as he’d displayed every moment before. There was an ocean of skin that whispered possibilities against a drug induced mind. “You lettin’ me play Picasso today?” he asked, grinning as he settled on the infamous spot above ass, his hand trailing there with a tight grip.
“Humble isn’t me,” he laughed, “But are you disagreeing? Cause I promise I can prove my claims.” He mourned the loss of contact to his groin. Grinding his way through the pain had been as good as not-sex could be for that minute, at least. Now it was simply watching her perfect behind, wagging the bone before a hungry dog. The noise escaping his lips was almost a whimper, the deep tone just enough to save from that particular level of pity. He smiled at her agreement, sweat beading on his skin from a tortured mix of pain and need, but his smile was undying. “It’s obvious then, isn’t it. I like givin’, you like takin. We’re a match made in a California King. Throw down the white flag, Braveheart, be selfish.”
His face was more amused then a laugh could have noted, brows so high they could have touched the sky. “A fucking chery pie?” he chuckled. “Brilliant.” The virginal metaphor was not lost. The pointer finger tapped on her hip, spreading it aside to flash the faded birds on his middle finger, wedged between the web of skin. “Crows were next. Dunno if they’re actually crows but it’s what I see. Done by yours truly on the roof at sunrise. Mighta gotten infected the first week but it was raw.”
