Total pages in book: 13
Estimated words: 12091 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 60(@200wpm)___ 48(@250wpm)___ 40(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 12091 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 60(@200wpm)___ 48(@250wpm)___ 40(@300wpm)
“Can I…touch you too?”
“Please,” I huff out in my own needy voice, and when his knuckles brush across my fly, my knees nearly give out. “Ah, fuck.”
This might be a bad idea, but I can’t find it in me to care. I can’t see beyond my pure want in this moment to have any regrets. The only thing that matters is making Caleb feel good. Giving him what he’s been missing.
I deepen the kiss, my tongue exploring his mouth, trying to memorize the feel of his lips against mine before we run out of time. Before he’s gone and the entire experience is just a distant memory in my rearview mirror.
His fingers dig into the small of my back and I can taste the raw need on his tongue. Our kisses grow more frantic as I swallow down his groans.
I press my palm more firmly against his hardness and massage him through the material. “Fuck…I’m gonna blow.”
“Tell me about it.” My own dick is straining against his fingers. “Wanna feel more of you.”
He rocks a little. “God, yes.”
My body takes over, my senses on overload as my hands move to his waistband, pulling his jeans open with clumsy but eager fingers.
He leans in, lips grazing my jaw, and it sends pinpricks along the fine hairs on my nape. I’m beyond desperate to touch him now, so I work his zipper open and shove my hand down the underside of his briefs to cup his shaft.
Caleb buries his face against my shoulder, as he moans and trembles.
I nearly dissolve, not only from the sound, but from how his bare cock feels in my grasp. Hot and pulsing—the ridge of every vein, the smooth skin covering the stiff length.
All I can imagine is everything I could do to him if only we had more time. He shudders, his need like a crackle of electricity that pulses through my fingertips as I stroke him earnestly.
He lifts his head and seals his mouth to mine in a hungry kiss. I twist us around, his back hitting the wall while he roughly tugs open my fly. “Tell me I can touch your cock too.”
“Fucking hell, hurry.” I thrust into his palm as he encloses my shaft in his fist. I relish the size of his hand, the rough calluses, and the strength of his fingers.
My tongue pushes into his mouth as I rut against him, wishing we could strip fully naked and feel every inch of each other’s bodies. We could take our time, revel in every touch and sound instead of racing against the clock and our frantic need for release.
The thick, humid air doesn’t help our relentless pace as we pant and press our mouths together. We’re on overdrive, stroking and fucking into each other’s hands.
“My balls ache. I’m gonna lose it.”
I wish I could see him right now—his eyes, the flush on his warm skin, maybe the wonder in his expression that he’s gotten this opportunity. A silver lining in a shitty situation.
“Own it. Come all over my hand. Show me who you really are.”
He’s likely magnificent out on the ice too, and for the first time, it makes me want to watch a game, just to see him in all his glory.
“Holy shit!” I keep jerking him good as his body tenses. He moans in this deep visceral way before the first spurt coats my fingers.
“So fucking hot.” I loosen my grip and give into his fingers working their magic on me. My vision blurring, I squeeze my eyes shut as my balls draw up, and I spill my load as well.
We stand there with our hands still in each other’s pants reining in our breaths, come all over our fingers, his taste still on my lips.
Finally, I get enough sense to release my fingers from his softened cock, and he does the same. I miss the warmth and closeness instantly.
“That was…wow,” I manage to say between harsh gasps for air.
“Yeah, it was.” I’m grateful not to hear a hint of regret in his voice.
“So, um, thanks for that.” I sound like an idiot, but I also mean it. It’s an experience I won’t soon forget.
“Ditto.” The roughness in his voice almost makes my dick rally for round two.
“You mean you’ve never jerked someone off in a dark elevator while stuck between floors?” I tease.
He snickers. “Can’t say I have, but I’d do it again, in a heartbeat. With you.”
I won’t deny the little thrill that shoots through me that he’s enjoyed himself too.
The space grows quiet, the only sound the choppy breaths between us.
“We should probably get cleaned up…just in case.”
I snap out of it. “Oh shit, I didn’t think of that. How—”
“We can use my shirt. I’m not the one who has to attend a wedding.”
The reminder brings it all roaring back. Outside of this hot and stifling space—one that was just transformed into a blissful refuge—my friend is likely panicking that his ceremony is ruined.