Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 97417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
He’d be chasing Ansel for the rest of his life and he’d die a happy man.
With that thought in his mind, the stress faded and he fell into their mating with renewed abandon. He clawed at his lover’s cotton-covered back and nipped his full bottom lip, knowing his own mouth would be smeared with the waxy red gloss for the rest of the night. He wasn’t even bothered by the thought.
Ansel gasped with a curse, gripping Fitch’s hair in two fists as he thrust their bodies together.
“How do you want me?” Ansel asked.
Fitch paused, trying to catch his breath. His mouth was suddenly as dry as he was desperate. He wished he’d brought the soda upstairs, but he hadn’t been thinking that far in advance. His heart thudded against his rib cage and he licked his lips before taking a step back.
“I was thinking...” He ran a hand through his hair and swallowed. “Hoping...” he corrected. “That we could try something new tonight.”
Ansel’s smudged red lips tipped up in his signature smirk. The same one that always brought Fitch to his knees, and this time was no different. Those green eyes glittered at him.
“Different?” With a tilt to his head. “Kinky different? Do you have a pair of handcuffs hidden somewhere?”
Ansel reached out and slid the drawer of the bedside table open just as Fitch said, “Wait.”
But it was too late. Ansel’s eyes went wide.
* * *
“What’s this?” Ansel grabbed the butt plug, utter shock making him stupid, and turned to wave it at Fitch.
He knew what it was, obviously. But he couldn’t figure out why Fitch would have one. It was a relatively small one made of black silicone. Right beside it was another bottle of the Sliquid Sassy lube. His brain stuttered, struggling to process the information. Apparently, Fitch wasn’t doing any better.
“You don’t know?”
Ansel scowled. “Of course I know. Why do you have a butt plug? Did you want me to use it? If so, you should have asked. This one is way too small for me.”
Fitch’s lips thinned and his face grew pale. “No.” He shook his head, his Adam’s apple bobbing endearingly.
“No?”
“It’s not for you.”
Kaboom. Kaboom. Kaboom. Ansel’s heart beat so hard it felt like it might break right through his chest and make a run for it.
His limbs grew heavy even as shock waves rippled up and down his spine.
Fitch was using a butt plug. Why?
The image of the slender black silicone length sliding into his lover’s ass filled him with a lust so strong he almost lost the strength to stand. Fitch was gorgeously muscular and hairy. To see him spread open, vulnerable—God. Ansel’s dick was ready to rip out of his dress pants.
“You said you liked to top sometimes.” Fitch’s response was quiet, and there was a tiny flutter in his breath like the nerves couldn’t be contained
Because Ansel liked to top sometimes?
For him?
Fitch was preparing, for him?
Confusion warred with the evidence until it all jumbled in Ansel’s stomach. Taking a deep breath he tried to clear his mind, to focus, because something was being said here without anyone actually saying anything. He just couldn’t figure out what it was.
Or maybe, he didn’t dare hope.
He bit his lip while weighing the toy in his hand and turned to Fitch.
“You want me to fuck you?” Having his bossy, controlling top at his mercy would be so much fucking fun.
At Ansel’s words, Fitch closed his eyes in a slow blink. When he opened them again, they were filled with desire. And fear.
“Yes.”
“Why?” Ansel took another step, stalking Fitch and wielding the toy like a sword.
Fitch’s gaze darted to Ansel’s lips before his tongue peeked out to lick his own. When he spoke his tone was once again full of uncertainty.
“Because I...I...” Fitch looked to the ceiling, presumably searching for the words. Ansel studied the blush that spread up his throat, the rapid pulse surging through the vein there, the way his chest rose and fell.
He’d never seen Fitch so out of control. Ansel stopped his advance and his heart waited.
“Because...I...umm,” Fitch struggled.
I love you.
Those three little words hung in the air. The breath in Ansel’s lungs died and every nerve in his body trembled like his soul was on the verge of flying into a million pieces.
It was a single moment, a tiny slice of time.
Say it.
But it expanded into forever and eternity, into forgotten dreams and unrealistic longings.
Say it.
His childhood had chased away every secret fantasy of a happily-ever-after, every wish of a love that could last a lifetime. His past was unforgiving, brutal, and hard. But ever since meeting Fitch, he’d started to believe his future could be different.
Say it.
He’d started to want those silly things from a time when everything was simple, easy, and honest. Because that’s how Fitch made him feel. And so he held his breath. Waited.