Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 80302 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80302 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
The second I kick my jeans away, his hand slips inside his own underwear. As if we’re in sync, when I start to pull my boxers down, he does the same.
“Look at you,” he breathes. “That perfect cock of yours, leaking from the tip.”
I have to squeeze myself right under the head to keep from ending this all too soon.
His light chuckle tells me that he knows exactly what’s happening, but I feel a little victorious when not a second later, he has to do the very same thing.
“Spread your legs, Alex. Let me see all of you.”
I comply faster than I probably should, the coolness of the air in the room hitting me in so many spots at once that a shiver runs over my entire body.
“Bend one knee. Spread wide. Jesus, look at that hole.”
“Drake,” I groan, hating how just his words have such a hold on me.
“Do you want my cock there? My tongue? What about my ass, Alex? Do you want to slide that thick dick of yours inside me?”
My breath hitches.
“Or do you want my mouth? My lips wrapped all the way around you? Oh God. I picture your mouth on me, that perfect tongue of yours swiping at the tip, falling flat while I coat it with cum.”
“Drake,” I moan again, my balls tightening, warning of ending this, but I don’t have the ability to stop it.
I manage to lift my t-shirt out of the way, enjoying my orgasm ten times more when I open my eyes to find him jetting on his own chest.
“Yes,” he hisses out, his fist tight as he strokes out the last few bursts of cum from himself.
He’s still straight and thick, pointed directly at me as he stands.
I’m certain he’s going to walk out of the room, through the connecting door, but instead, he slinks up the bed, our messes combining when he presses his stomach to mine.
I angle my head toward his, waiting for the kiss I know is coming, but once again Drake backs away. It feels like a manipulation for a second before his mouth skates over my abdomen, his hot tongue licking at the mess we made.
“Oh God,” I manage when his tongue circles my navel.
The memory of tasting my own cum last night off his fingers hits me like a ton of bricks, and once again I’m desperate for more from him. He doesn’t make me wait long, his lips glistening as he curls over me again, every inch of his naked flesh touching mine as he lowers his mouth.
The saltiness of his kiss is utter perfection. The moan he releases into my mouth is heady as I suck all that I can from his tongue, hopelessly needy for all he’s offering me.
It’s filthy, the combined taste of us, but he takes it a step further when he pushes up on one arm, using the other hand to swipe through the semen on my stomach.
I don’t even pretend I don’t want it when he lifts that hand to my mouth, much like he can’t pretend how much he enjoys me sucking his fingers clean. His own mouth hangs open while I do it, his eyes locked on my lips.
“I was trying to be a good boy,” he whispers, his middle finger still in my mouth. “But this isn’t really helping my need to shove my cock down your throat.”
I lick at my lips when he finally pulls free.
“I may have to up my game,” he says as he climbs off the bed.
I don’t realize I didn’t argue with him until after he closes the door separating our rooms.
Chapter 16
Drake
He didn’t look at me the next day. We spent hours at the baseball field, and then another seven hours on the ride home, and Boomer somehow avoided all eye contact.
I don’t know if it’s because he wanted to avoid suspicion or if it was because he’d already regretted what we’d done.
It’s been a week and not once has my phone chimed with a text or the front door at Jake’s been darkened with his shadow.
I haven’t reached out either. Whatever this is between us, as strong as it seems to me, it may not be the same for him. The ball is in his court and pushing him into something he may not want or may never be ready for isn’t something I’m going to do.
The waiting doesn’t make me think of him any less. I go to bed with him on my mind. He infiltrates my dreams in some of the filthiest ways. I wake with an erection each morning and his name on my lips. I spend nearly my entire shift at work with my eyes glued to the door, waiting for him to show up. I imagine bumps in the night when I’m trying to fall asleep that it’s him making his way up the stairs to my little apartment.