Jumping the Bull by Jenn Burke

Author:Jenn Burke [Burke, Jenn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Jenn Burke
Published: 2020-04-13T18:30:00+00:00

8

Oliver woke up absolutely surrounded by hot, hard, virile man flesh.

At least, he was pretty sure he was awake and not dreaming. In a dream, he wouldn’t be overly hot, right? And Ben’s leg wouldn’t be pinching his thigh. Oh, and his heavy arm wouldn’t be interfering with Oliver’s ability to breathe.

His cock would probably be poking him in the butt, though. Like a velvet-covered steel homing missile.

There were worse things.

“You smell good,” Ben rumbled in his ear, his voice sleepy and slurred. Sexy.

“Yeah?” Oliver’s voice wasn’t much better. “You’re a cuddler, eh?”

Ben grunted an affirmative, cuddling closer—then froze. “Oh shit, I’m—”

“Don’t you dare apologize.” Oliver rolled his hips to press his butt against Ben’s missile.

Ben swallowed audibly. “No?”

“No.”

“For real?”

Oliver flipped over so he could grab Ben’s face and stare into his eyes. “For really real.”

And then he kissed him.

It wasn’t slow and languid, or even all that gentle, as maybe first kisses should be. There was lots of tongue, a bit of teeth. Passionate—just as hot and hard as Ben’s muscular body and enthusiastic dick. Before he knew it, Ben had rolled onto his back, taking Oliver with him, and Oliver was suddenly sprawled over a sexy, sexy man. Their cocks lined up together, the best feeling, and Oliver rolled his hips again, with even more purpose this time. The drag of hardness against hardness, even with the layers of underwear between—god, it was so good. Oliver groaned. Ben moaned—then froze, doubt clouding his gaze.

“Are you sure… Should we be doing this?”

Oh no. Oh hell no. Oliver was not going to waste this opportunity, now that he had Ben where he wanted him—where he’d wanted him for weeks, if he was being honest. In bed, needy, hard, hopefully aching with want, just like Oliver himself was. He rolled his hips again, a flash of satisfaction arcing through him as Ben’s eyes rolled back.

He leaned down low, so his lips were brushing Ben’s earlobe. “I don’t give a fuck if we should or not,” he whispered. “I want you.”

Ben swallowed, the click of his throat audible. “God. Fuck. Okay. Yeah. Let’s… Yeah.”

Oliver pulled back with a grin, thrilled at the idea that he’d reduced Ben to nonsensical one-word sentences. He lifted up and tugged at Ben’s boxer briefs. Ben arched his butt off the bed in obvious invitation to remove the offending garment. Oliver did so, and saliva flooded his mouth at the sight of Ben’s rigid cock slapping his stomach.

“I knew that thing was a missile,” Oliver murmured.

“What?”

Oliver just shook his head and shucked off his pajama pants. He wore nothing underneath, and his own dick stood out proudly. It was slimmer than Ben’s monster, but a little longer, and Oliver swore he could see Ben’s pupils expand with lust as he eyed it.

“Oh yeah. That. In me.” Ben let his legs fall further apart.

“You bottom?”

“Fuck yes, I bottom.” Ben scowled. “Don’t tell me you buy into the stupid stereotypes of big guys only giving?”

In Oliver’s experience, it hadn’t really been a stereotype.

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