Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 70368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
“Better not make me pin you down and cover your mouth.”
“Mmmm.” Zeb made a hungry noise straight out of porn. “That’s hardly a threat, Atlas.”
“Fuck. Fuck.” I had to let go of my cock before something embarrassing happened.
“Sorry,” Zeb chirped. “I teased too far—”
“Not. Too. Far.” I squished my eyes shut, but that hardly helped because all I could see was that image of me pinning Zeb to the bed.
“Oh.” Zeb’s mouth made a perfect circle. “You were close?”
“Get back to stroking, Zeb. Enough questions.”
“Fine, fine, make me pleasure myself.” He gave an indulgent stretch, a full body roll complete with a groan. He stroked himself slowly, clearly showing off, unconstrained by time, nosy neighbors, or thin walls, the sort of luxury I’d seldom known. Watching him enjoy himself made my pulse hum and my dick throb.
As long as I didn’t touch myself, I could probably last—
“Ahhh.” And then Zeb went and made a noise so primal and blatantly sexual that precome beaded up at my tip and coming untouched became a distinct possibility.
“Fuck. More noises like that.” I gave the order, knowing full well I was signing my doom.
“You like it loud?” Zeb smiled over at me, playing his reactions up, squeezing and teasing, varying his strokes and finding ample cause to moan. I wanted to be the one coaxing those sounds loose so much that my hands shook. Only inexperience and some last illusions of nobility kept me from reaching for him, especially when Zeb shuddered. “I’m close.”
Body tensing like he was preparing to come, he rucked up his T-shirt with his free hand, revealing a fuzzy stomach with reddish hair. Fuck. Even his belly was sexy. Made me want to rest my head there and…
Nope. I couldn’t let my brain follow that thought unless I wanted to detonate like a stack of C-4.
“So close,” he moaned, repeating the warning.
“Not yet. Wait.” I had no business giving that command, seeing as how I was clinging to the edge by a fingernail myself. “It’ll be better if you wait.”
“It’d be better if you’d give me more of a show,” he countered.
“Fine. Watch me.” Barely hovering my hand over my shaft, I traced the length with a single finger, up and back.
“No fair teasing.” Zeb leaned closer, and his hair smelled like autumn: cinnamon and apples and good memories. Lord, the scent alone would get me there, not to mention Zeb’s voice, eager and intent. “Show me how you usually do it.”
“I’m incredibly efficient. Not sexy.” I gave a self-conscious laugh as I shrugged out of my T-shirt and wrapped it around my right hand.
“I’ll be the judge of that.” Zeb’s chuckle was far kinder. “Of course, all you have to do is breathe, and you’re sexy as fuck.”
“Not exactly helping me not come.” My voice was all strained. The familiar combo of loose grip and soft cotton had my back arching.
“God. You’re gonna get me there.” Zeb sounded nothing short of awestruck. His tongue darted out to lick his lip, and my last thread of control snapped.
“Come here.” I motioned him closer with my left hand, but to my surprise, Zeb didn’t budge.
“I thought you said no touching.”
“Come here.” I made my voice sterner, and that did the trick, bringing Zeb right up next to me where I wanted him, at the perfect distance for yanking into a near-brutal kiss. My cock pulsed, and that I didn’t come was a fucking miracle because he tasted even better than I remembered. Zeb’s little whimper of surrender was the sweetest sound I’d ever heard. “Fuck. Fuck.”
I held Zeb so tightly against my side that I could feel the subtle motions of his arm as he resumed stroking. I tried to do the same, and the barest brush of my hand had my dick leaking more.
“I need to come,” he panted against my lips before kissing me again. His urgency was so sexy, the way he seemed to crave this. I’d never had anyone so damn hungry for me before, and I was rapidly becoming a convert for Zeb’s haven’t-had-the-right-partner theory. Because damn, all sex should be this good. And we weren’t touching, not really. Just kissing and stroking ourselves, and God, I was right there as well.
“Me too, baby. Me too.” My eyes threatened to close, but I forced them to stay open because I didn’t want to miss a second of Zeb coming. “Tell me when.”
“There. Oh. Fuck. It’s right there.” Zeb’s motions and moans both intensified. I stilled my hand long enough for a rosy flush to spread up his neck, across his cheeks, and for his eyes to flutter shut. He stroked himself far faster and tighter than I would have dared. I held my breath, tensing right alongside him.
“That’s it,” I urged, and the second he grunted, white creamy fluid erupting over his fist, I was coming as well from the barest movement of my hand. I came into my shirt, hard, almost painful waves that made my body bow and everything from my teeth to my toes ache.