Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 80689 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80689 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
“Wild,” he whispers. “You’d think you must be related to him somehow. The jaw. The eyes. The hair. When you first came here, I thought you looked like he would have a few years older, but I’ve wondered if that was a cruel trick of my mind. Like it was making me see more of him than was really there.”
“Maybe I’m your long-lost cousin,” I joke. “Maybe that means Simon might have to share the wealth with me.”
He chuckles softly, but it shifts to a frown as he stares at the photo, like it’s taken hold of him and carried him off to some memory—and not a good one, by the looks of him.
Ryan closes the album, and as he sets it on the desk, I notice his hands trembling.
“Ryan?” I ask, moving close, but he avoids my gaze. “Are you okay?”
His chin quivers as his eyes well with tears.
“Are you okay?” I ask again.
He nods, but I know that’s not true.
“I’m sorry, Ryan. I shouldn’t have given you my phone. I know you didn’t want to look.”
“I chose to look. You didn’t make me.” His words are curt, and I can feel his anger in them. I imagine he’s mad at himself, but I wish he wouldn’t be. Or just be mad at me.
I step to him, moving slowly as I put my arm around him, and he falls against my chest, trembling before I hear him sniffle.
With one hand around him, I place the other against his cheek.
“Oh, Ryan. It’s okay to miss him.”
He puts his arm around me and shakes even more before he glances up into my eyes, looking at me for the first time since he saw the photo, like he’s forcing himself to do it.
His breath catches, as if he’d been terrified of what he might see instead of me.
And then he lunges at me. I can hardly process the move before my back slams against the bookcase so hard, my shoulder blades take a blow from the shelf, but Ryan’s lips are like an anesthetic—any pain is set aside because my body’s so hungry for the pleasure another kiss from him promises. As his tongue sweeps across mine, I grab his face in my hands.
“I…need you…to fuck me,” he says between kisses.
“Here? Now?”
“Fuck, Jonas, please.”
It seems like we’re so exposed here, yet we’re never really alone in his room either, so what does it matter?
Ryan pulls away to toss off his shirt, and I see his pants are already at his ankles. How the fuck did he do that so fast? I’m in shock from how quickly he’s moving, and before I know it, he’s unfastening my belt.
“Lube?” It’s the only word that comes to mind.
“Just spit. I don’t care. I need you in me right now. Please.” I’m struggling to think straight as he yanks my pants and boxers down, then strokes my cock. “Please,” he whispers against my lips. “Please.”
There’s pain in his plea.
What did that photo do to him? And why does he want this so badly?
He licks across my bottom lip. “It’s okay if it hurts. I don’t mind.” I feel his smile against my face as he squeezes my dick. “That got you hard, didn’t it?”
As he steps out of his pants, I notice he’s already kicked off his flip-flops.
There’s desperation in his eyes, a plea for me to end his agony, and fuck, I can’t help myself. I rest my hands on his arms and spin him around. His hands drop onto the desktop as he pushes his hungry ass out.
In no time, I’m on my knees, cupping his ass cheeks, spreading them. They’re so firm in my grip as I lick him.
I can’t fucking believe he wants to do it like this. But it’s clear by how I’m going at it—my tongue wild, my nose buried against his flesh—that I want to give him this as much as he wants to take it.
“Get up,” he says, and I push to my feet, as though I’m just a robot programmed to follow his orders.
“Are you sure I shouldn’t open you up a little with my fingers or—”
He reaches back and rubs his hand across my shaft, covering it in a thick film that I realize is his precum, which makes me even harder.
“It’s okay,” he says. “Please, I need you now.”
And I want to give him what he wants…so badly.
Get it together, Jonas.
I spit into my palm and add it to the impromptu lubricant before resting a hand on his ass cheek and pressing the head of my cock against his hole.
Feels tighter than usual. I wonder if it’s because he’s so tense from his pain, or if it’s because we don’t have the necessary lubrication to make this happen.
I just need to be careful with my movements. Nice and steady.