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)
Something dark glinted in Fox’s eyes as he turned a sidelong look on Summer. Something possessive. Something hungry, as he swept an arm around Summer’s waist and drew him in close and tight, right there in the hallway where anyone could see if they looked out a classroom door or when the bell let out between classes in the next few minutes.
“I say,” Fox growled. “And I rather like the sound of ‘Summer Iseya.’”
Mm.
Summer shouldn’t like that so much.
And yet after so much denial, so much heaviness, after Fox had pushed him away so much...
It ached so brightly inside, for Fox to so openly want to claim Summer as his.
And with a laugh, Summer leaned into him, resting his hands against Fox’s chest. “Fox Hemlock might just mean I’m not the one with the weirdest name here anymore. But since when are you territorial?”
“Since the moment you walked back into my life,” Fox answered, then leaned down to seize Summer’s lips in a kiss.
Suddenly they were tumbling through the door of Summer’s new office—and slamming it behind them, before Fox had him pinned up against it, arms over his head, wrists clasped. Fox always seemed to need that—some measure of control, something to leave Summer whimpering and writhing and completely submitting of his own free will, and God did Summer melt now as Fox skimmed his free hand down his body, flicked over his nipple through his shirt, nipped along his jaw in hard biting lines.
“I think,” Fox whispered against his skin, “that we need to christen your desk.”
Summer let out a breathless laugh. “We’ve christened half the rest of the school grounds. Might as well.”
As if he didn’t need it just as much.
As if he and Fox hadn’t been nearly ravenous for each other, from the moment a tow truck had dragged them back to Albin to the day, last week, when Fox had taken Summer out to dinner and quietly slipped that ring across the table without a word, the shining platinum itself a question that didn’t need to be asked but that Summer answered with an enthusiastic yes.
As enthusiastic as his moans, as his spread legs, as Fox pulled him away from the door and pushed him down over the desk, bent and spread for his beloved, slacks dragged down around his ankles—though he caught them before they fell, at first, fishing in his pocket until he found another one of those conveniently portable little tubules of lube, flicking it over his shoulder between two fingers.
And earning a sharp, deliciously stinging smack across the ass for it, hips lifting in a rough jerk as he groaned with the pleasure of the burn.
“Again?” Fox asked with a touch of exasperation, plucking the tube from Summer’s fingers, while Summer rocked forward with a gasp, grinding his already-hard cock against the desk, trailing into a moan.
“Like I said,” he whispered, curling his fingers against the desk, bracing himself for the onslaught—of fingers, of pleasure, of Fox’s cock, of Fox’s love. “I never give up on hope.”
And he would never give up on Fox.
Not through this pleasure, as their bodies crashed together and Fox filled him in that way that only Fox could, leaving Summer clawing at the desk, begging for more, spreading himself and so willingly open and vulnerable to the man he loved.
And not through whatever pains may come.
He and Fox Iseya had taught each other how to be brave.
And no matter what...
Summer would always, always fight to love and be loved, exactly as he was and exactly as Fox was—no more, no less. Love that accepted each other in all their foibles and follies and fears and fantasies.
Love that settled inside them, found its home, made them home...
...just like that.
* * *