Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 65137 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65137 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
He shut the door to Liam’s room and leaned against it, watching unseeingly as Liam played with his action figures.
It would be all right.
Everything would be all right.
They would have sex and finally fuck this mutual obsession out of their systems. And then Miles would be able to leave. Go home. And forget about this crazy summer.
Just one night and then it would be over.
Chapter 13
Miles stared at himself in the mirror, taking in his flushed face, dilated pupils, lips slightly red and puffy from all his anxious chewing.
He eyed his t-shirt and sweatpants, wondering if he should take them off. He usually slept naked, but what if Ian thought that it was…
God, he was being ridiculous. Miles wondered if this was how a bride felt on her wedding night centuries ago, waiting for her husband to come to her room and consummate their relationship.
The thought startled a laugh out of him, which somewhat helped break the tension building under his skin.
It was just sex, for fuck’s sake. Not that there had ever been anything “just” and effortless about sex for Miles, but with Ian, sex felt as natural as breathing. It felt like something he needed instead of something he had to do. Besides, Ian knew how inexperienced he was. There was no need to impress him.
If sex was terrible, all the better: he would finally be cured of his hang-up on Ian. Last time he had felt so needy after they shared orgasms that he was kind of scared he would be far worse if they had real sex and he actually enjoyed it.
Oh, fuck it. Enough.
Miles pulled his shirt off and shimmied out of his sweatpants and briefs. Naked, he raked his hand through his hair and gave himself an appraising look. He was a good-looking bloke, objectively. He was a Hardaway. He may not be Ryan-handsome, but his mother hadn’t produced a single unattractive child.
Besides, Ian wanted him.
The thought sent a thrill through his body, his cock twitching. Miles stroked it lazily to full hardness, watching himself in the mirror.
His breathing hitched as he imagined Ian’s eyes on him, watching him wank. His free hand traveled to his nipple, pinching it. A small moan left his mouth, his eyes closing as he remembered what Ian’s tongue felt like on his nipples, wet and heavenly good.
Fuck, at this rate, he wouldn’t last a minute when Ian touched him. Maybe he should get started to speed things up.
Miles got into his bed and stretched out on his back, sighing in pleasure as cool sheets touched his overheated skin. Reaching out to his nightstand, he grabbed the bottle of lube and quickly slicked his fingers.
Spreading his legs, he circled his slippery fingers over his hole, massaging them in, letting the tips of his fingers catch on the rim. It felt admittedly strange, vaguely good and vaguely wrong, but the mere thought that he was preparing himself for Ian’s cock turned him on more than the act itself.
Miles obviously knew what to expect. Since some of his siblings were in same-sex relationships, he’d heard so much about gay sex that he felt like he was well-informed about the subject even despite his inexperience.
He knew his older brothers were tops; it was hard to miss it with all the innuendos they’d exchanged with their significant others. But personally, even when Miles had wondered if he could be gay, the thought of topping didn’t excite him. He had always been more intrigued by the idea of being on the receiving end of a cock. There was something about the idea of being taken, playing the submissive role, a role that was considered unnatural and taboo for a man… something about it had always appealed to Miles—theoretically. However, his disaster of a sex life had quickly crushed that curiosity.
Until now.
Until Ian.
Miles gasped, pushing his fingers in and spreading his legs wider as he imagined a heavy body on top of him, crushing him to the mattress, blue eyes searing him as a long, hard cock drilled into him…
Oh god.
He added a third finger and pushed them hard inside him, reveling at the stretch and burn as he scissored them. It hurt a little, but he didn’t mind. Ian liked it when it hurt. Maybe Ian would hurt him first.
The thought made him shiver.
Miles wasn’t sure he would like hardcore BDSM, but the idea of being bruised, pushed around, and treated as if he were just a hole for Ian’s cock… it made his balls ache, his hole clenching around his fingers.
Miles heard himself moan and paused, panting, three fingers buried deep inside him.
He had intended to just prep himself so that they didn’t waste time when Ian arrived. He should probably stop. It would be mortifying if Ian saw him finger-fucking himself as if he was some kind of cock-slut who couldn’t wait to get fucked—which didn’t feel all that far from the truth at the moment. He loved this. He could only imagine how much better Ian’s cock would feel.