Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 71044 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 355(@200wpm)___ 284(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71044 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 355(@200wpm)___ 284(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
Maybe my type is Adrian Tyler and no one else.
“Nightstand, nightstand,” I’m muttering impatiently after the pair of us relocate to my bed.
“This one?”
“No, dummy, that one,” I growl, out of breath.
“I’m not a mind-reader.” The condom is in his hands. He fumbles with it as he tears it open, like this is his first time, then quickly rolls it onto his dick. “I don’t live here.”
“Are you nervous or something?”
“What? No. Why would I be?”
His excitable eyes betray him. “No reason. Other than you’re acting like some nervous schoolboy who just got the prom king in his bedroom.”
He’s lubing up his cock as he squints at me quizzically. “First off, that doesn’t make any sense. We’re on your bed in your bedroom, not mine. Second—”
“Wow, Captain Literal. Lube up my ass, too. It’s been a … really long while.”
He snorts. “You think I’m gonna do you raw? ‘Course I’ll lube you up.” He crawls over me, his face hovering over mine, and then his slick fingers find my hole. I bite my lip and try not to squirm. He grins. “Underestimated how sensitive you’d be, huh?”
“I suppose so,” I admit with a little moan.
“Mmm. You’re so damned cute, Quintin.”
I look up at him as his fingers gently tease my hole into a state of complete and utter reception. His skill is evident in putting men at ease, no matter what bed he finds them on. “I feel like a real prom king right now.”
“Do you?”
“I didn’t go to my prom.”
“I want to make sure you always feel like a king. King of every prom. King of this very bed we’re on. King of the whole damned world.”
His eyes burn me as he speaks, furious blue, and his lips curl with the tiniest speck of mischief, which only adds to how erotic it feels having his fingers tease my ass. The more he works me, the less I feel capable of words.
Then his fingers are traded for something else.
Something huge. “Oh, fuck …”
“I’ll be gentle,” he assures me. “Say stop if it’s too much. I’m … kind of a big guy.”
My mouth falls open.
My eyes rock back.
Who needs words anyway?
As I lay there, embracing this gorgeous man who doesn’t fuck me, but makes love to me, I’m struck over and over again with wonder. This isn’t anything like how I imagined the infamous Adrian to be in bed. Why was I expecting some kind of self-obsessed sex animal who requires mirrors on all sides of us so he can stare at how good he looks while banging me?
Instead, he’s a downright gentleman. He’s kind. He’s attentive. He cares. His eyes follow mine as he tenderly eases the tip of his cock in and out of me, little by little, never rushing it, never forcing it, never giving me even a chance to think his only purpose is to get off.
He wants me to enjoy it, too.
He wants me there with him every step of the way.
He fucking nurtures me.
Just as I start to feel him slide deeper in, he cradles my head with his hands and brings me in for a kiss. I close my eyes and melt against him, feeling like I’m his precious possession, held in his arms, basking in the sensation of our bodies joining together. Despite his intention to be gentle with me, my body grows impatient, and I just want all of him inside of me as fast as possible. I cling to him with need, the anticipation mounting faster than he can satisfy.
And then he gives one little push.
My fingers curl, clawing into the meat of his muscular shoulders.
I groan with delirium.
He slides deeper in. Then deeper still. Soon, my body rocks with his, creating a rhythm that sends me over the top with pleasure.
I never dreamed it would be like this.
Maybe that’s because I never dreamed we would ever be in a situation with both of us naked on my bed, doing what we’re doing, feeling what we’re feeling.
I know now that I’ve had him wrong all along.
Adrian is as beautiful inside as he is on the outside. I stand corrected. Or rather: I lie here, corrected, beneath his gorgeous body, pierced by his breathtaking eyes, connected to his soul by the vulnerability I see in his face.
He reaches between us and takes hold of my cock, which has been throbbing senselessly between our bodies, and starts to stroke it. The happy, electric sensations racing through my body are doubled by his touch, and it’s all I can do to hold back from exploding in seconds.
I cling to his face, bringing him in for kiss after kiss, not knowing how else to express how grateful I am for the pleasure he’s giving me. How could this feel any better?
Between our kisses, he says, “I wanna finish with you.”