Get What You Need by Jeanette Grey Read Free Book Online

nooks and crannies?”
    Now that was definitely a whine falling out of Marsh’s throat, and Greg didn’t need any other sign. He leaned back and pushed at Marsh’s hip. Marsh turned around willingly enough. Shaky with how much he wanted this, Greg mumbled, “Spread,” teasing apart the firm cheeks of his ass with his thumbs.
    Marsh’s head thumped against the wall at the first long stripe Greg licked up through that valley, tasting earth and salt and soap, wanting deeper and closer. Marsh was starting up a litany of “Yes,” and “Christ,” and “Fuck,” and “Please.” Greg got a hand up between Marsh’s legs, touching balls and cock and abdomen as he laved and probed and licked circles around that tight little opening.
    “Like being opened up?” he panted into Marsh’s skin. “Gonna get you all soft and loose.” He pushed the point of his tongue just inside, and the pressure of his own dick inside his jeans pinched and made him gasp. “Wanna fuck you so bad. You want that?”
    “Yeah, yeah, anything, just—”
    “Next time.” If there was a next time. Greg didn’t do this with just anyone. A furtive handjob or a blowjob in a corner on a lonely night with a stranger? Sometimes. But getting up inside someone, or letting someone come inside him, that was another thing entirely.
    Panting, he closed his eyes for a second and pressed his brow to the firm swell of Marsh’s ass. Not this time, no, but soon. For Marsh…for Marsh, and the way he made him feel free and unhinged like this…he would.
    He forced his eyes open and bit down on the flesh against his face. For now, he’d settle for this, settle for the taste of him and the sound of his breath, and fuck, it wasn’t settling at all. Licking harder at his opening, he reached around and grasped Marsh’s cock in the circle of his fist, and Marsh keened, shoving into it, fucking Greg’s hand and pushing back against his tongue. His hole was all nice and wet now, and Greg pulled away to press a kiss to the red mark where he’d bitten him before. Got a finger in.
    Marsh choked Greg’s name out, clenching down. He rocked twice before going still as he pulsed, hot, all over the wall and all over Greg’s fist, and God, God, fuck, Greg was going to—he had to—
    Then Marsh was twisting, was shoving Greg down and climbing over him. He kissed Greg full on the mouth, and it was filthy and delicious. Almost as good as the way he slid down Greg’s body, tearing at the buttons of his shirt to kiss his bare chest and opening his pants.
    Greg’s toes curled at the squeeze of fingers around his cock, pulling him out. At the feeling of Marsh’s soft, wet mouth around him, he almost lost it.
    “Oh God,” he moaned, fighting to keep his hips still, to not fuck up into all that perfect heat, to not come the first instant he bumped up against an open throat, and— “Fuck!”
    He put his own wrist in his mouth because that was Marsh’s throat . “So good, so good,” he chanted. Marsh was deep-throating him, and Greg wanted to find whoever had taught him to do that and kiss him and kill him, and he wanted Marsh to never stop, and he wanted to come.
    He didn’t even know what he was saying anymore as the pressure built and his balls tightened. The noises being forced out of him were too loud, and he sank his teeth harder into his wrist until it hurt. When a hand touched the inside of his thigh, he didn’t hesitate at all to open up.
    The first press of a fingertip against his hole, and everything went dark and blurry and too much. Screaming into the skin between his teeth, he shoved at Marsh’s head. Marsh just pushed deeper, just kept his perfect mouth right there, though, and Greg gave over to it, to the fantasy of Marsh spreading him wide and fucking him into the floor. One more pump and he spilled into the tight stricture of Marsh’s throat as he came and came and came.
    Jesus.
    The first sound to break through the fog was a quiet chuckle from above