Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 64847 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 324(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64847 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 324(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
“Yes. Fuck yes.”
“You were made for this, for pleasuring me.”
“Yes.”
“Tell me how much you love it.”
His words came out in a staccato rhythm, between thrusts into him. “I love it so much. I need it. I need you to fuck me. Use me. I want to be your cum dump. Pump your seed into me. Show me you own me. My body is yours, Aleksei. Only yours, to fuck and spank and use.”
I swore in Russian and tried to hold back my orgasm. I didn’t want this to be over, not yet. But damned if he didn’t take my dirty talk and toss it right back to me.
“That’s right, Tima. Only me. Nobody else gets to fuck and spank your gorgeous little ass. It’s mine. You’re mine.”
He started to beg. “I need to come, Aleksei. Please. I’m so close.”
“Not until I do.”
I started fucking him even harder, and he grasped the pillow with both hands, moaning and writhing beneath me. I let go of his hair and wrapped my arm around his shoulders, and then I cried out as the most intense orgasm of my life slammed into me. I gasped for breath, clinging to him as it went on and on in waves.
Somewhere in the middle of that, I managed to grind out, “Come for me, Tima.”
He yelled, “Fuck,” as he white-knuckled the pillow, jerking his hips as he came. I kept driving my cock into his ass, shooting deep inside him, marking and claiming him with an unspoken litany—mine, mine, mine.
By the time we finished, both of us were utterly wrecked. I eased my cock out of him and collapsed onto the mattress, drenched in sweat and gasping for air. At the same time, he rolled over and tossed aside the cum-soaked pillow that had been under his hips.
A moment later, he burst out laughing and exclaimed, “Holy shit, that was epic!” That made me laugh too, just because it was so unexpected. Then he asked, “When can we do that again?”
I turned my head and smiled at him. He was flushed and tousled, and he looked incredibly happy. “Soon, but aren’t you sore after all of that?”
“Oh, for sure, but I like that feeling.”
As I traced his cheekbone, I asked, “Any regrets?” That had all been incredibly intense, and I had to wonder if it was more than he’d bargained for.
“Only one. I should have brought takeout instead of groceries. I’m fucking starving! Even waiting for a pizza is going to take too long.”
I kissed his shoulder, and then I climbed out of bed and said, “I’m on it. Wait right here.”
“But you must be as tired as I am.”
“Yeah, but my inner caveman wants to provide for you, so just go with it.”
I went into the bathroom and took a two-minute shower before putting on a pair of briefs and going downstairs. After depositing the groceries he’d brought in the refrigerator, I grabbed a few things and returned to the bedroom.
While I was gone, he’d taken a quick shower, packed up the toys, put on a pair of pajama bottoms, and tossed a sheet over the duvet. He’d also retrieved the octopus, and it was now sitting beside him on the bed.
I joined him and put a plate between us, and Timothy grinned as I lined up a loaf of bread, a jar of peanut butter, and some strawberry jam. “This is the quickest thing I could think of,” I explained, as I placed a carton of milk and two glasses on the nightstand.
“Excellent. I love PB and J.”
“Me, too.” I placed four slices of bread on the plate as I told him, “It’s practically all I ate when we first moved to the US. I’m surprised I didn’t get sick of it.”
“It was always my go-to as a kid, and the first thing I learned to make for myself. My parents were never around, so I got to be pretty self-sufficient.” I paused and looked up from my task, and he grinned at me. “Forget I said that. I feel really good right now, and I don’t want anything to ruin my mood.”
I knew there was a lot of pain and hurt in his past, and I hoped he’d open up to me someday. But since he clearly didn’t want to do that right now, I changed the subject by saying, “So, guess who came to see me at work today.”
“Dwayne the Rock Johnson.”
“Is that really your guess?”
Timothy flashed me a smile. “Sure. Why not?”
“Well, you’re close.”
“Really?”
“No.” He chuckled, and I told him, “My son came to see me, just out of the blue.”
“Oh wow! How did it go?”
“Surprisingly well. We managed to talk without it turning into an argument, which is a bit of a miracle. I think we might actually have a chance of rebuilding our relationship.”