Black Mustard: Justice Read Online Free PDF Page A

had the need riding him, a dark vacher on a wild horse. He kept his fingers tight, kept finding those things that made Loic want.
    The wet drops of pre-come slicked the way, eased it enough that he could squeeze harder, swipe his thumb just that much faster. Loic’s fingers pressed into his skin, making bruising promises that the man better damn well keep.
    “Come on, cher. Come for me. Need.”
    Pearl-white heat spurted up over his fingers, onto his wrist, a line of wet heat.
    Loic shook for a minute, trembling above him, before he tugged good and hard, bringing them together, the weight making the old chair creak and complain.
    “Lord, cher. You. Me.”
    Loic snorted, eyes rolling. “Justice.”
    “Yeah.” He pressed Loic’s hand to his fly, to where he ached. “There ought to be.”
    Loic’s wild, hungry smile was about fine.
    Just almost good enough to eat.
    ***
    Loic grabbed Justice’s shirtfront with one hand, grabbed his open and falling slacks with the other. They didn’t need the booze or his notepad where they were headed.
    Justice’s seams creaked, but the man stood, followed him the few short steps into the living room with the big, overstuffed leather couch, the soft, soft green blanket draped over it. He shoved hard, sending Justice down while he kicked his pants off and locked the balcony door. Justice’s hands weren’t being stupid, he was glad to see, tearing at buttons and zippers, baring that hard, solid belly, the thickest, fattest cock he’d ever seen.
    He stepped forward, eyes on that hard, dark prick, the tip swollen and wet for him. Oh, Jesus. Why on earth had he ever waited for that? That was a piece of work. Loic knelt between Justice’s sprawled legs, shoved the man wider so he had all the access he needed.
    “Cher... Damn, Loic.”
    He would have shushed Justice, told the silly bastard to lean back and let him work, but words weren’t his friends anymore, so he planted one hand in the middle of the man’s fuzzy, broad chest and shoved. Stay.
    Stay right there and let him play.
    Justice -- brilliant fucking man -- got the hint and stayed, abs rippling, breath huffing out of him. Loic moaned and leaned down, let his cheek slide up along the shaft, knowing the hint of stubble would rasp so good, would make Justice feel him. The grunt he got made him smile and do it again, fingers slipping down to roll those velvet soft balls.
    “Jesus, cher. Don’ stop, eh?”
    No. No, he didn’t think he would, not any time soon.
    His lips wrapped around the tip of Justice’s cock, tongue tracing the ridge at the head, following every bump, every inch of heated flesh, all the way around to the beginning of that leaking slit. Salty and bitter, the flavor was just he wanted, and he licked the whole way, flicking with the tip of his tongue.
    The sac in his hand tightened, wrinkling up, echoing the hunger he heard in Justice’s low cry.
    Oui. Oui. Yes, Justice. So good.
    One heavy hand landed on his shoulder, and he let it stay there, but he didn’t take Justice in all the way yet. No, Sir. He wanted to explore.
    He played at the tip -- slapping and lapping, licking and pushing in a little with his tongue -- making sure to repeat the touches that made those rough sounds push out of Justice’s chest, made more of those needy drops slip onto his tongue and tease his taste buds.
    “Cher. Close, eh? Gon’.”
    No. Not yet.
    He tugged Justice’s balls gently, stretching the sac out enough to drag Justice away from the edge of coming.
    He wanted to know every single inch of the man’s cock.
    When Justice relaxed back again, Loic started his explorations again, this time beginning at the base, tongue testing the wrinkled skin where sac met shaft, then up to where the heavy mass of bright gold curls hid soft-soft flesh.
    He nibbled the line that the heavy vein made right under the skin of Justice’s shaft, smiling at the moans he got, at the way Justice’s ass creaked on the leather, bare butt