made me chuckle. “Ye have a brother complex or something?”
“No. Blow me again,” he whispered in my ear.
“Huh? Why?” I garbled, because honestly I had not expected that.
“Because it was the best bloody blow job I’ve ever had, and every time I think about it or look at you I think I’m going to get hard; so do it again to say sorry.” His voice was low and his teeth were slightly bared as he grinned down at me.
“Yer reasoning is twisted.” I pulled myself together, but that was the only thing I could think to say—not the best comeback. His grin was feral. His hands came round my shoulders, and with startling ease, he rolled me on top of him. He pressed his groin up into mine, and I fought to keep my body in check as his growing erection pressed into me.
“You said I just had to ask. I’m asking,” he said as he rolled his hips. I fought the urge to groan—between him and his brother I was going to end up with a serious case of blue balls.
“That was before yer brother spent an hour taunting me with sultry looks,” I replied as I stared down at him. I was slightly satisfied by the look of irritation that flashed through his brown eyes.
“An hour? You’ve been killing me for two fucking days.”
A smug smile slipped onto my lips. But even that wasn’t enough to sway him from his course.
“What’s in it for me?” I asked archly. “I mean, last time I was satisfied with knowing I’d won. This time ye want it, so….” I tried not to smile too disdainfully as an idea occurred to me. I grasped his shoulders and rolled us both over so I was on my back. I watched as his pupils dilated and he thrust his hips down into me.
“You want me to fuck you? You little fag whore?” he cursed in my ear, but his insults were softened slightly by the obvious arousal between his legs.
“Hell no.” Which was a lie. And therefore surprising enough in itself, because I didn’t do being fucked. There were only two guys I trusted to fuck me—and they were definitely not some straight, inexperienced idiots. Yet as I stared up into Trystan’s hungry, lust-glazed face and felt his cock pressed into the well of my hips, I realized I very, very much wanted to be fucked by the man on top of me right now. I wanted to be brought to the edge and then to be fucked so hard I would have trouble walking. But Trystan was straight and therefore almost certainly clueless, and if that wasn’t reason enough, we were in a tent with the rest of my family sleeping twenty meters away.
“Kiss me, then I’ll make ye come,” I said with a smirk, because if nothing else I was going to make this difficult for him.
5—Ladybird
T RYSTAN SCOWLED and stopped his thrusting. “I’m not kissing you; you’re a man.”
“I know, and yet ye just asked me to blow ye; kissing me doesn’t make ye anymore gay than being blown by me.”
“I’m not gay.”
“I don’t care, those are the terms: kiss me and I’ll make ye come, kiss me good and I’ll make it better than last time.”
“Better?”
I smiled up at him because I was almost certainly not going to get off, but I was still going to enjoy messing with the guy.
“Mmm, I wasn’t actually trying that hard, ye know…,” I reached up to whisper softly against his ear.
I leaned back and watched the idea take root in his brain and work its way through his body. His tongue darted out across his lips—so like his brother’s. I smiled at the irony that the one I was able to kiss was the one that didn’t want to be kissed. I could see him considering it as he looked down at me, the lust fighting with the arbitrarily drawn lines he had set out for himself as he considered my lips.
He was actually going to say no. Part of me was a little impressed, and part of me was sad I wouldn’t get to tease him. So I wasn’t expecting the lips that were pressed down over mine. I was even less expecting the muted groan that slipped between the contact or the hand that came