Total pages in book: 149
Estimated words: 146548 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 733(@200wpm)___ 586(@250wpm)___ 488(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 146548 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 733(@200wpm)___ 586(@250wpm)___ 488(@300wpm)
“No thanks.” He eyes my lip piercing.
I smile. “Looks like we’re at a standstill.” And you want to kiss me.
He’s so impatient that he ends up scrolling and clicking into an amateur video. I skim the title: Two Passionate Guys Make Love!
“Shut up,” he tells me.
“Didn’t say anything.” But my smile touches my cheeks, and I do say something now. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting to make love, wolf scout, and being honest here, I’d say it’s a preference of yours.”
He turns his head, brows furrowed at me. Confused.
It stings my heart a little bit. “We’ve made love before.” All of the time.
“Yeah?” He shuts the laptop. Sets it aside. “Remind me, Farrow.”
I stroke his hair back, my hand running down his jaw, and our mouths crash together, nerves lighting to five-hundred degrees.
We shed our boxer-briefs, and wrestle in the twisted sheets, kissing the hell out of each other. We draw closer together when we turn on our sides, his weight on his good shoulder.
“Fuck,” Maximoff groans after I nip his neck with my teeth. I suck harder, and then I kiss his jaw, his lips again, and his skillful tongue slides over mine.
Blood simmering, he bucks into me for harder friction while our mouths meld together. Grinding his pelvis against mine, my cock hardens.
I break our mouths and pat the mattress. Finding a bottle of lube. My chest presses firmly to his chest while we’re on our sides.
Our eyes collide, and I lather my length. Huskily, I tell him, “I’m going to come inside of you, wolf scout.”
He rocks his hips into me, squeezing my ass, and groans against the crook of my neck. “Fuck me now, man.” He strokes his own cock.
Fuck. I tuck him more to my chest, and I lift his leg over my waist. Keeping my arm underneath his knee so he’ll stay hoisted. “Look at me,” I whisper.
He pulls his head back, his eyes melting into mine. He looks overcome and at the peak of arousal, and I haven’t even pushed into him yet.
I tease his hole open with two fingers. His muscles flex, his breath catching. He’s giving himself to me with so much trust and love and care. It amplifies an already visceral, primal feeling that connects him to me. That douses me with kerosene and lights me on fucking fire.
Sweat built on our skin, I move my fingers, and I ease my erection into him. Slowly. “Breathe,” I tell Maximoff, our eyes locked.
“Oh fuck,” he grunts. The pressure wells around my cock, his tightness overwhelming me, and I use more lube before I push deeper.
“Fuck, Maximoff.” My muscles pull taut, and I’m all…the way…inside of him. I rock my hips, and I hold the back of his head in the most protective, secure grip. Not letting go, our mouths a breath away, and we stare unblinkingly. Feeling every fucking thing and seeing it well in the other’s eyes.
“Oh fuck,” he groans, his lips broken open with throaty noises.
My hand shifts to his jaw, encasing his face, holding as fucking tight as him. His eyes almost roll, almost gone.
“FarrowFarrow.” He death-clutches my shoulders like he’s falling off a mountain and I’m his harness.
I grit down, a coarse noise tangled in my lungs. My pulse hammers in the hollow of my throat. “Fuck,” I groan. “Wolf scout.”
Water slips from the corners of his daggered eyes.
Mine burn and well.
We kiss in this final stretch. Our lips push each other’s mouth open in burning aggression and desire, and my searing lungs beg for more breath.
I rock and rock.
And he pulsates around my erection—I come, my mind spinning, and our bodies tighten. Grunts and groans and curses pitch the air, and slowly, gradually, I milk my climax inside of him. Pumping a few more times, and my abs glisten from him.
I let go of his face and stroke his cock to finish him off, cum slick on my palm.
His head lolls backwards, basking in the fucking pleasure.
I smile. And I still can’t stop staring, not for a moment. He’s the iron-willed guy I saw at Harvard who needed all of me, and I had to wait years before I could give him everything.
31
MAXIMOFF HALE
I’m going to propose here. This five-day vacation with Farrow—God, it’s hands-down the most romantic of my life. I have the ring. I just need to wait for the perfect moment.
Early morning, we lounge on the sunbathing cushion in boxer-briefs, a shaded pergola shielding the rising sun. A photo-worthy Greek breakfast is spread on a wooden slab: eggs baked in tomato, onion, feta, spinach, along with sesame-coated koulouri bread and two glasses of orange juice.
We talked for hours last night and fell asleep under the stars. I never used to think a lot about romance, but being with him, I think about these things. All the damn time.