Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 79892 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79892 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
Fox’s hands were everywhere. Stroking at him, teasing over his body, tracing every outline of him and stopping to find the spots that made Summer suck his breaths in, from the peaks of his nipples to the dip of his stomach right below his waist, from his inner thighs to the undersides of his knees, searching out and discovering him. He writhed; he begged, gasping out his cries again and again; he curled and arched and twisted his body into every touch as if Fox had some compulsive power over him, pulling the strings of his need until he felt naked even with his swim trunks on, this consumptive and dizzying pleasure completely bared for Fox, his vulnerability on display each time Fox touched him and made him whine, made him clutch at him, made him whisper Fox’s name, his mouth drying with the rush and sigh of it again and again.
But he nearly lost it when Fox stripped his boxer-briefs down to his thighs, touched his naked cock skin to skin, toyed over it, teased it, stroked it in knowing, feather-light touches that gathered the slick gleam of Summer’s own pre-come against his skin and streaked it over him, making his cock tighten and swell with the near-agonizing sensation of that heated wetness cooling against his skin...
...before Fox cracked the little tube of lube open over his fingers, snapping it in a single brutal grip and coating his hand, thick clear runnels dripping down in loops to splash on Summer’s skin.
Summer hissed as it landed on his cock, even those little licks of sensation too much, hyper-sensitive shocks that punched into his core like the most delicious pain—but it was nothing compared to those lube-slick fingers probing down between his legs, slipping under him, dipping along the cleft of his ass.
Fox pressed one fingertip against Summer’s clenching entrance, the lightest brush of callused skin against tender flesh.
Clamped the other hand against Summer’s throat, fingers pressing in just hard enough to whisper of strength, control, possession, the most perfect pulse of pain against Summer’s skin.
And slid one finger inside him, penetrating him in a slow smooth dip of probing flesh, opening him with an intimacy that made him feel so vulnerable he nearly screamed before Iseya’s first knuckle had even stretched open his pliant inner walls.
Summer sucked in a shallow breath—only for that dominating palm against his throat to stop it, not quite cutting off his air but only leaving him no doubt that he was in Fox’s grasp, at his mercy, writhing underneath him with his thighs spreading so achingly wide of their own volition, baring him while he arched his back and jerked his hips and tossed his head back. Deeper that finger probed, a slow searching glide that touched over every secret place inside Summer with excruciating slowness and attentive strokes of pleasure, while Summer whimpered shamelessly and flinched from every too-raw burst of touch; it was too good, too fucking good to care about pride, and all that much better because it was Fox.
Fox sliding that long finger into him, searching ever deeper. Fox adding a second finger, stretching him, twisting them, plunging in and out in a rhythm that made Summer keen with the unbearable pleasure of it; with the borderline invasive feeling of being filled, his flesh played in malleable caresses, his entire body responding with quivers so deep he felt them vibrating in his gut.
Fox watching Summer with devouring eyes that seemed to see nothing else.
Fox stroking over and gripping his throat with a grasp that made a delicious thrill tighten in the pit of Summer’s stomach—sending ripples throughout him that only clenched his inner muscles against Fox’s fingers, imprinting the shapes of Fox’s knuckles from within in little bursts of pleasure, holding on as if Summer could pull him deeper inside his body to touch every forbidden heat inside him.
Fox wanting him.
And that was all Summer needed.
Yet he craved more, more...and Fox gave him more. A third finger. A fourth. And then...
God.
The head of his cock pressing against Summer, thick, hot, seeming to jerk and buck and twitch with a life of its own, promising searing pleasure, every sharp detail of its flared shape teasing against him until an emptiness pulsed inside him in the outline of that hard, surging flesh, a craving that demanded to feel that heat sliding inside him, teaching him what it meant to be so full with someone else he thought it could destroy him.
Fox hovered over Summer, looking down at him with those consuming eyes that seemed to cut into Summer’s very soul.
Tumbling hair falling down around them in half-loosed wisps.
That strong, honed body captured in a moment of perfect grace, taut-rippling sinew, arched over Summer in that last moment.
And that rumbling voice, breathing, commanding when there could be no other possible answer, “...say yes.”