Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 123873 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 619(@200wpm)___ 495(@250wpm)___ 413(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 123873 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 619(@200wpm)___ 495(@250wpm)___ 413(@300wpm)
It still wasn’t enough.
This insatiable thing inside him just grew bigger, hungrier, and he bit down on Brendan’s shoulder, stifling a moan as he dragged his fingers down Brendan’s back, found the hard curves of his ass, dug in over the denim, then dragged and pulled at it.
“Tease me next time,” he whispered, nipping his way toward Brendan’s jaw. “Fuck me now.”
“Filthy boy,” Brendan breathed against his ear, and Cillian shivered—then whined as Brendan punished him with teeth stinging just hard enough against his nipple, a sharp-burn nip that surged right to Cillian’s cock.
“Oh fuck, call me that again—”
“Mm…filthy. Dirty.” Every word sensuously groaned against Cillian’s ear, low voice pouring over it with pleasure that turned each syllable into an erotic thing branding into Cillian’s skin, that perfectly sullied and yet wonderful feeling. “So fucking desperate for it you’ll beg me for anything, won’t you? So twisted up you can’t think about anything but getting fucked.”
“…mmnh.” Cillian pressed his teeth hard against Brendan’s shoulder, hips bucking, shuddering. “Tell me it’s all I’m good for,” he begged. “Tell me.”
“Do I need to? On your back with your legs wide open, shameless and begging me…you know what it is you’re good for.” Brendan’s tongue dragged lasciviously along Cillian’s jaw; his weight pressed down harder, pushing Cillian into the bed, hips grinding against Cillian’s naked cock until he nearly came in a single hard jolt as those words crawled into him, that voice curling up inside that intimate place that loved to feel depraved in those moments when the pleasure hit its peak. “Look at you. Spread and stretched for me…all this filthy body needs is a cock buried inside you. You want me inside you, don’t you? You want me fucking you until you’re a mindless, begging slut.”
Fuck, if this was Brendan easing his way into things…he could ease all he fucking wanted, as long as he kept rolling that dirty voice over him, slicking him with the hot feeling of Brendan laying out every last one of Cillian’s desires and refusing to let him hide from them. Refusing to let himself feel like anything but what he was in this moment, a complete wanton, and he was too empty, too empty—
“Do it,” he groaned raggedly. “Fuck me, Brendan, fuck, I want it deep…”
“Then I should have mercy on you.”
Yet there was no mercy about the feeling of Brendan pulling away—but when Cillian opened his eyes, he found Brendan kneeling over him, unzipping his jeans, lifting himself up on his thighs to slink denim down over a low-cut pair of black designer briefs that framed his hips like pure sin and drew Cillian’s hungry eyes to the thick framing of his cock against the black fabric, hanging heavy between toned golden thighs. Cillian’s tongue ached, wanting to taste the wet spot darkening the fabric, thickening the air with the musk of desire, and even as Brendan kicked his jeans away and hooked his thumbs in the waist of his briefs, Cillian pushed himself up, curled in, pressed his mouth to that large, heated ridge stretching the fabric to its limit.
He tasted salt, man—sucking against the cotton, feeling the flared head of Brendan’s cock through the material, soaking in his heat, wetting the fabric more and sliding it against Brendan’s shaft. Brendan let out a cracking, guttural groan of raw pleasure, one heavy, strong hand curling against the back of Cillian’s head, spread thighs rippling with strength as he pushed his hips forward, nearly grinding his fabric-sheathed cock against Cillian’s mouth.
“Hungry, filthy boy?” Brendan growled.
“Nnh,” Cillian whimpered, molding his mouth over Brendan’s cock-head, sucking at it through the cotton, god it felt so good against his tongue, thick and pulsating and dripping until he tasted more and more salt, until—
“Not yet.” Brendan’s hand left his head—and pushed against his chest, spilling him back onto his back. “You have to earn that with your body first.”
And then—briefs flung away, naked skin to naked skin, rough hands on his thighs pulling him apart and nearly bending him in two as Brendan spread him mercilessly; Brendan’s slick cock rubbed along the cleft of Cillian’s ass, painting his skin with warm liquid that cooled and tightened his skin in seconds, leaving him moaning, tossing helplessly. Pure fucking torture—and that torture only intensified as Brendan leaned over him, felt in the nightstand, returned with a small clear glass bottle that he thumbed open to let it drip over his fingers in slippery, pouring strings. The faint scent of lube mingled with the scents of raw sex and pre-come between them, and Cillian was so ready, so ready that he cupped his own ass in both hands and spread himself wider, lifting himself up, offering and—
“Fuck!” he cried, as Brendan speared two lube-slick fingers inside him. Thick, twisting, working inside him in relentless strokes, stretching and spiraling with every plunge in and out. Cillian thrashed, twisting and rotating his hips for more, more, rubbing himself against Brendan from the inside and clenching around thick knuckles. “Brendan, Brendan…God I need to come, I need to come, let me come with you inside me, fuck me…”