Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 91635 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91635 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
“Please,” Vic ground out, body jerking forward sharply to grind his cock against Amani’s, friction burning deep, before he visibly forced himself to stillness. “Please.”
“Fuck me,” Amani whispered, and they came together like a storm.
Rough hands gripped Amani’s hips, lifted him up, spread him open just enough to give him a taste of the perfect pain he gave to Victor, before with a rasping groan Victor arched over him, power gathering in his body like a bullet waiting to fire, only to slam home deep as a gunshot as he pressed his thick cock-head against Amani’s body and drove in hard. Even slicked, even prepared, the splitting pain was overwhelming, pushing a scream from Amani’s throat as he dug his nails into Vic’s back and clung hard, lifting himself up into it, wrapping his legs around Vic’s waist. With rough, animalistic growls under his breath, Vic rocked his hips sharply, pushing deeper and deeper in short, forceful surges, filling Amani more and more and tearing the breath from his lungs.
He thought he would snap completely, when Vic settled home completely inside him, bringing their bodies flush, intimately locked. Vic shook so deeply his entire body was a beautiful seismic disaster, rolling and churning muscle moving against Amani with caged strength; he bowed his head, resting his brow to Amani’s chest, starting to pull back—but Amani curled a hand against the back of his neck, winding the other into his hair, pulling, holding, keeping.
And Vic froze, right in that perfect spot that set off little fires all over Amani’s body, flashpoint bursts that rocked him dizzily and left him panting, clinging, burying his face against that mess of tangled hair.
“Right there—right there, sweet boy. Stop,” he whispered, and when Vic started to move like some mindless animal driven beyond understanding, “Stop.” A sharper command, his fingers tighter in his hair, and Vic stilled with a softly broken snarl, barely held by Amani’s touch, his command. “Stay. Stay just like this.”
“Amani…” He breathed Amani’s name the same way he said Master, plea and passion in one, torment and fulfillment, and Amani’s entire body clenched, as something perfect locked in place inside him.
“Say it,” he gasped, pressing his lips to Vic’s hair, his temples, his cheeks, his throat. “Say my name that way again.”
Vic turned his head, huffing breaths hot as a beast’s against Amani’s ear, and then that grating, needy growl: “Amani.”
“Sweet boy.” Oh fuck. Oh fuck, this was too much, too perfect, and Amani eased his grasp on Vic’s hair, relaxing his leash, biting at his earlobe, drawing it into his mouth to suck and tease and flick before letting go. “Now…slow.” And obediently…obediently Vic began to move, slow as rolling waves, slow as drifting snow, deep as a sky you could reach and reach and reach for and never grasp, at once filling Amani and destroying him with this resonant ache that curled as deep and pulled as powerfully as the most compelling sonata. He found rhythm, found pleasure, found himself as he rose to meet Vic, moving with him again and again, purring his approval over and over for his sweet boy. “Just like that,” he gasped. “Slow…slow. Let me feel how deep you are.”
Vic’s only answer was a whisper of “Master—” and the full force of that strength pouring into Amani, tightly controlled and given to him in hot-penetrating surges, slipping and stroking and stretching and pushing deeper, deeper, until his body was sated in its fullness and cried out with loss each time Vic drew back. He arched against the sofa, luxuriant and luxuriating, losing himself where time had no meaning. Nothing mattered between them save this: the sound their bodies made as they met, and the harmony of their voices rising in needy, pleasured cries.
And when Vic touched him—when Vic curled a hand between them and stroked over his cock, shaping him with brutal hands turned to a gentle lover’s touch, Amani found his peak, found that one striking note whose frequency could tear him apart…and he shattered, Victor’s name on his lips as flesh locked and limbs tangled and he tightened against the slickness, the heaviness of Victor’s cock, gripping him and holding him deep as his pleasure poured from some deep place inside him to spill across Vic’s hand, drip between them, spill against their skin.
“Master,” Vic repeated, letting go of his cock to clutch at him harder, his voice choked, near a sob as he thrust harder, his hips moving in short jerking shudders, almost fighting the coils of tension keeping Amani locked and trembling and caught as hardness stirred and moved and stroked inside him in every tender, sensitive spot that made him scream. Fuck—fuck, Vic was about to—if Amani didn’t—
He started to reach between them, searching for the snaps on the cock strap, but he was too late. Vic abruptly stiffened, his entire body bucking, his head throwing back on a roar that sounded half agony, half pure bliss as a flux of pure strength rocked down his body, slammed into Amani, expelled in wet, molten-hot splashes surging against his inner walls and trickling over his skin, filling him with slickness.