Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 61180 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 306(@200wpm)___ 245(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61180 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 306(@200wpm)___ 245(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
Like this—lovers who give each other everything.
Who fuck fearlessly.
Who love boldly.
Who can’t get enough of each other.
That’s how Grant makes me feel, licking and kissing like he’s obsessed with my pleasure.
He’s driving me utterly insane with lust.
Pleasure throbs in every cell, and still, I want more. I want everything. With my weight on one arm, I reach behind me, grab his head, bury him deeper. He answers me with a hungry kiss, a sizzling moan. The sound he makes is wild, a man possessed by his lover’s bliss.
“Yes, that’s so good,” I groan, keeping him up close against me. That’s how we do it. That’s how we like it. That’s how we love to fuck.
And I love every single thing about this moment.
A haze of bliss envelopes me. My dick has never been harder, my balls never tighter.
I’m pulsing with pleasure, not sure I can hold off.
“Grant,” I beg.
He slows, stops, flips me to my back. My skin is still tingling everywhere, my dick throbbing. Grant looks like a man consumed as he pushes my thighs apart. Grabbing the lube, he coats his fingers, slides one inside, then another. He crooks his fingers perfectly, sending a torrent of pleasure spinning through me.
I shudder everywhere, and I moan like crazy because everything feels incredible. My whole body has gone to a sex fiesta, and I don’t want to stop the celebration.
Grant’s gaze remains locked with mine as he plays with my ass. “You taught me to do this,” he rasps out.
“I know, and you’re so fucking good at it,” I say as he twists his fingers inside me, his other hand traveling up my chest, kneading my pecs.
He breathes out hard, his eyes blazing with desire. “Want to know why I’m good at it?”
“Why?” I groan as he hits my prostate again and again.
“Because I love making you feel good, Deck. Just love it.”
“Me too,” I whimper as I push down on his fingers, seeking more heat, more pleasure. “Need to jerk, babe,” I say, reaching between my thighs.
Before I can grip myself, his hand curls around my shaft. Then, holy fucking stars, he crooks his fingers inside me just so.
“Ohfuckohfuckohfuck.”
Electricity crackles down my spine, a high-voltage charge of pleasure as he demolishes all my walls. With his passion, he breaks me down, makes me never want to keep secrets from him again. Never want to crawl into that box again. Makes me want to tell him everything.
So I do, rasping out, “You make me feel so good, babe. Love what you’re doing. Love it so much.”
Waves of bliss crash into me and I’m too close.
“But if you keep that up, I’ll come. I’m warning you,” I tell him as he torments me with pleasure.
“Don’t come till my cock is buried in you,” he says as he gives a nice, slow stroke up my length.
“You’re making that really fucking hard, Grant,”
Everything feels electric, and agony spirals exquisitely as my man works me over, takes me apart, and wrecks me with bliss.
When I’m this close to losing it, he stops, eases out his fingers, staring at me with fire in his eyes. “Let me fuck you hard, babe. Let me fuck you and make love to you and come all over you,” he pleads.
We’ve never used those words before.
Make love.
Make love is too soft for us. Too old school. Too straight.
But hell, if that isn’t what we’re doing.
We are fucking and loving.
“Have me,” I say, and it feels like a brand-new start.
It feels like I’m letting him inside me in a whole new way.
Like we need to show each other that, though we can bend, though we can buckle, we can’t break. I want to demonstrate with our bodies that we can be everything for each other.
Because he’s everything to me.
8
Grant
We’ve had so much sex.
Hot, passionate, greedy sex.
And I’ve loved every second of it.
But this is a first for us.
This is makeup sex, and I need it badly. I shift my man around, put him on all fours, and run a hand down his back, pushing between his shoulder blades. “I want to have makeup sex with you,” I tell him, my voice vulnerable, matching the whole mood tonight.
“That’s what this is. I feel it too,” he says.
I push his chest down to the cushion, kneel behind him, a fresh dose of lust ripping through me as I stare at how ready he is. How much he wants me.
I want him more than ever. I need him desperately, and I need to show him that I don’t care if he ever goes dancing with me again. I will always want him, and that’s how I slide my hard cock along the seam of his ass—consumed by my own desperate desire to come together with him.
He arches his back, his breath stuttering out in a needy rasp.