Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 91507 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91507 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Oh fuck. It was time. Rafe was done fucking around, that was his serious voice. It sent Hop’s heart into a tailspin as he scrambled to obey. Within seconds he was flat on his back, knees in the air, flicking the lube cap open.
“Tell me how good it feels as you shove your new toy into your ass.”
“Yes, sir.”
He poured on the lube and began the delicate process of inserting the plug. A hiss escaped as the widest part stretched him.
“You can take it. That’s no thicker than my cock.”
“Liar.”
Rafe tsked. “Are you saying I have a small dick?”
“Like hell.”
“No?”
“I was walking funny all day because of your monster cock.” One last thrust and the toy was fully seated inside his ass. Hop’s toes curled.
“Fuck, you are gorgeous.” His deep, approving growl shot sparks through Hop’s blood. “How’s it feel?”
“Not as good as you.”
“If I was there right now, I’d make you grovel at my feet, begging to suck me. Would you like that?”
“Yes.” It came out more sigh than words, but Hop couldn’t be bothered. “I wish you were here.” His asshole clenched around the silicone lodged inside him.
He closed his eyes and imagined Rafe’s warm weight pressing him into the mattress, like last night.
“In a way, I am.”
The toy began vibrating.
Hop shouted. His body bowed upward as waves of pleasure cascaded over him. The toy was rooted against his prostate, and the sudden and repetitive oscillation set off a torrent of spasms. His heels dug into the mattress, his fists twisted in the sheets, and his neck strained as he fucked the air.
Just as fast as it had started, it stopped. Hop collapsed to the bed.
“What. The hell. Was that?” The words were forced out between bursts of air.
“Isn’t technology amazing?” Rafe waved his cell phone at the camera. “That plug is wireless and I have a handy little app that controls it.”
“Oh fuck.” Knowing Rafe had power over him, even from afar, caused all Hop’s muscles to go lax. It calmed him, knowing Rafe was there. That Rafe was in control.
“Hands above your head, pet. Let’s see if I can make you come without ever touching you.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
That night proved exactly how creative Rafe could be at finding ways to make Hop beg. Days later, Hop was still in a state of delirium. He’d been kept on his toes like never before, and he felt crazily triumphant. Rafe checked in every morning and every evening. Sometimes it was a simple text to wish Hop a good day or sweet dreams.
Sometimes it was more.
Hop loved both, and it was getting harder and harder to keep his feelings out of the equation.
But they hadn’t touched since last Sunday and Hop hated to admit he ached for Rafe’s hands. He needed the quick sting and bite of those smooth palms on his flesh. The pinch of Rafe’s grip invaded his dreams. And the euphoria that overwhelmed him when he gave in to Rafe’s desires kept him in a constant state of madness.
One thing he hadn’t expected when starting this fling with Rafe was the steady communication. Rafe wanted to be informed about all the seemingly unimportant details of Hop’s daily life.
Who cared what he ate for lunch or how much sleep he got? Did that matter when you were fucking someone? It never had before, but Rafe made those ordinary aspects part of the perpetual tug of war between them. An endless give and take that, when seen through Hop’s peach-colored dreams, looked remarkably like a real relationship.
Each time his brain went there, though, he forced himself to think about something—anything—else.
He couldn’t allow himself to get soft.
That road was one he was already familiar with and he’d given it up long ago. Sex was fine, but Hop couldn’t expect more.
It helped that the Boyz were busy making final tweaks to their new routine. Hop focused on rehearsing as much as he could because he needed it. The dance Tam had created was super technical. Seeing as none of the members, except for Jae, had ever been formally trained, it was amazing they’d been able to pick it up as quickly as they had. Well, everyone except for Hop. Every night after their scheduled studio time, Hop and Jae would find an empty room.
Jae was his savior.
Quiet and stoic, Jae never said a word to the others about their extra time. And the fact that he acted like he wasn’t secretly tutoring Hop afterhours made him the greatest friend ever.
“You’re worried for no reason,” Jae said one day during their private session.
“I’m the weakest dancer.”
Jae’s dark eyebrow rose. “Who said that?”
“Reality. I don’t need you to sugarcoat shit for me. You’re not Willy-fucking-Wonka. Just show me how to keep up with the rest of you.”
“What’s wonka?”
Hop shook his head. “Never mind, show me the second eight count in the third verse. I keep messing it up with the last one.”