Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 63895 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 319(@200wpm)___ 256(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63895 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 319(@200wpm)___ 256(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
Roman leaned down, nipping on Wyatt’s neck before moving in for a devouring kiss. ”Ready for me, baby?” he asked against Wyatt’s lips, the head of his cock already lined up with Wyatt’s hole.
“Yes, Roman, please give it to me. Please,” Wyatt urged, his hands going up to Roman’s powerful shoulders, holding him tight as Roman pushed forward, his head sliding in and drawing another loud moan directly from Wyatt’s core. His eyes opened wide, nails digging into Roman’s back as he sank himself in further.
Inch by inch, Roman gave Wyatt exactly what he pleaded for. He dropped his head back, one hand on his flushed chest and the other holding the base of his stiff cock. He didn’t even want to stroke himself with how close he was to exploding.
Too soon—he wanted to enjoy this. Needed it to last until the end of time.
Roman gave a deep thrust, burying himself down to the hilt. Wyatt gave a shout, back arched and body wrapping tight around Roman.
“That okay?” Roman asked, a flash of concern entering into that hungry gaze.
“It’s perfect, Roman. God, I love you. I love you so fucking much.”
Roman leaned down, kissing Wyatt, tongues dancing together as their bodies were united. The kiss broke, and Roman’s thrusting continued, deep and long, smooth like ocean waves and just as powerful. Wyatt moaned with every thrust, the sounds of his immense pleasure competing with the grunts coming from Roman, their skin slapping together.
This was heaven. Wyatt had died and was now in heaven. It was the only logical explanation that accounted for how fucking incredible he felt, being plowed by the man of his dreams. Roman’s thrusts became faster, harder. He grabbed Wyatt’s legs and hoisted them over his shoulders, opening Wyatt even further.
Every thrust was another mini explosion, sending stars flitting across Wyatt’s vision. He took all of him, his legs beginning to tremble as the intense ecstasy washed over him. Wyatt looked down, feeling the precipice of his orgasm, just one more—fuck, “oh fuck!”. Without touching himself, his own cock began leaking a thick stream of come, dripping down his shaft and pooling in his pubes.
“Fuck, baby, look at that.”
Roman slowed his thrusts, using two fingers to scoop up some of the come, bringing it up to his mouth again and swirling his tongue around them.
Surprisingly enough, Wyatt didn’t feel like he’d reached his climax just yet. It was like a pre-orgasm, likely brought from the intense edging from earlier. He was still rock hard, his balls tight.
“Keep fucking me, Roman. Make me come again.”
Roman smiled a devilish grin as he pulled back before rocking his hips forward, over and over. There was a possessiveness to his thrusting, spilling out of his hungry gaze. As if he wanted to make it clear that Wyatt and Wyatt’s ass was his and his only, no matter how many ex-boyfriends landed in the picture. He continued driving himself in deeper, the head of his cock rubbing up against Wyatt’s prostate with every thrust, faster and harder and deeper. Both of the men began grunted like wild animals, lost in the heat of the moment, chasing the sun and not scared to get burned.
“I’m going to come,” Roman said with a growl. Wyatt reached for his hips and held him down, plunging him in deep. Roman dipped his head back and gave a shout, unloading inside of him, filling Wyatt with his seed.
The sensation pushed Wyatt over his edge. He came, this time shooting ropes of come up onto his chest, some of it smacking onto his chin, his hole quivering around Roman’s thick cock with every crashing wave.
It took a couple of minutes for the world to stop spinning, for Wyatt and Roman to catch their breath, for their hearts to stop racing and for their brains to solidify again. At some point through the haze, Roman produced a small white towel and used that to clean Wyatt’s come-soaked chest.
When Wyatt found that he could put a proper string of words together, he said, “That was so fucking good.”
Roman, lying next to Wyatt on the bed, cock resting swollen and lubed on his thigh, smiled up at the ceiling, bliss in his green eyes. “It’s the best sex of my life. And I can’t wait to top it every single time we fuck.”
“Maybe I can top it one day?” Wyatt teased, turning over to nestle against Roman’s neck, giving him a kiss.
“You can top me anytime you want,” Roman said, chuckling.
“Alright, I’ll remember that,” Wyatt replied. “I love you, Roman. More than anything in this world. You’re my everything—you know that, right? I hated you being gone again. It broke me.”
“It broke me, too. But you held it down. You pulled everyone together, and you saved me. I’m so fucking proud of you, Salt.”