Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 64366 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 257(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64366 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 257(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
I laughed. “How old are you, thirteen? Forget about that stuff and tell me what you and my dad talked about in the car. Because, I’ve gotta tell you, I’m shocked at how well you two are getting along. You’re like the country club son he never had.”
He replaced the marker in its tray and stalked over to me. “Well, I don’t wanna talk about that.” His voice was playful, taunting me as he skated a fingertip lightly over my button fly. “I’d rather talk about what’s got you so wound up. You like this side of me, yeah?”
“Yes,” I breathed. “But only because I know what’s underneath. You’re like Eddie Haskell on steroids.” I pretended to smooth the fabric of his shirt, running my palms over the muscled perfection of his chest, his ribs, his abs. “Of course, you’re a lot fucking hotter. This shirt—”
“I wanted you to see.” He grabbed on to my hand and clutched it to his chest, his expression earnest. “I can do this for you, Jamie. I can be the family guy.”
“But it’s not really you.”
“Sure it is.”
“No.” I slid my free hand down the front of his pants and squeezed his dick hard enough to make him gasp. “No, it’s not.”
“Okay, you win.” He spun me around and pushed me into a stand of various mops and brooms, their long wooden handles all clattering loudly against my back.
We giggled silently, doing little more than moving air in the enclosed space, trying to keep from giving ourselves away. Kage gathered the mops and brooms in both fists and moved them to another area before pushing me against the now-empty strip of wall.
I was dizzy, from the limited amount of air circulating in the pantry and from Kage’s proximity. Every time he looked at me or touched me, it got a little harder to breathe. The air was already feeling thick and heavy.
“Jesus, it’s a thousand degrees in here,” I panted, working the tail of his shirt up with my fingers and connecting with the hot flesh of his abdomen, tracing the ridges of his six-pack.
“We survived the sauna,” Kage reminded me. “This is nothing.”
He ducked down to catch my mouth with his, randomly nipping and licking at me over and over, heedless of art or precision. We were both stupid with want, grabbing and pulling at each other, frantically seeking satisfaction. I opened the front of his pants and worked his cock out with trembling fingers, needing to feel it in my hand, all warm and stiff and powerful. Kage pushed his pants all the way down to his knees to give me better access, then he got me half naked, removing my shirt before expertly freeing each button of my fly and shoving my pants to my knees. When he took my throbbing cock into his hand, a tiny sound escaped my throat.
“Quiet,” he whispered. Then we were kissing again as he proceeded to torture me with rough strokes that blurred the line between pleasure and pain, working me over with his unique brand of sexual expertise. I thrust my hips wantonly, fucking up into his tight fist, already chasing my orgasm. It was uncanny the way he knew exactly how to get me to that needy place, where the rest of the world fell away and all that existed was the desperate hunger to feel— pleasure, pain, life, death. In that place, they were all the same.
He shuddered against me, needing me as much as I needed him, but it was almost impossible to concentrate on jerking him off when I kept losing myself to the sensations. Wrapping my arm around his neck and pulling myself closer, I disengaged my mouth from our mad, artless tangle of a kiss and groaned in his ear.
“I want you to fuck me.”
“Can’t,” he panted. “They’ll hear.”
“I don’t care.” I stood up on my toes and angled his cock down, positioning the head just below my balls and pulling his hips so that his thick shaft slid right between my thighs.
“You are so fucking slutty today.” He rocked his hips, moving his cock incrementally back and forth between my thighs, the ridge of the head teasing my taint in the most wonderful way. He licked my throat, nipped at my jaw, and kissed a hot trail all the way to my mouth, where he sucked my swollen bottom lip. I let out the cry I’d been trying so hard to hold in, and his strong fingers wound around my throat, exerting just enough pressure to demand my attention. My eyes stretched wide, and my body went completely still. “Don’t. Make. A sound,” he growled. His uncivilized tone set off a series of quakes in my belly, and I squeezed my thighs to encourage him. “If you even breathe hard, this is over. Do you understand?”