Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 54852 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 274(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 183(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54852 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 274(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 183(@300wpm)
Hunkering down to touch more of him made it easier to rub my own aching cock against the warm curve of his ass. Holding him closer, I rocked slowly against him as I peeled his briefs down.
“Fuck.” I had to groan at how good his bare skin felt on my palms, the heat of him against my jeans. Him nude and me clothed was another delicious contrast to appreciate in the mirror. I loved how debauched he looked, eyes wide, hair wild, body flushed, cock hard and leaking.
“Do…want me…hunt down…condoms?” He panted as I nibbled some more at his neck.
“Not if that means you moving from right here.” I wasn’t opposed to fucking at all, but I was also loving my fantasy of getting him off exactly like this, focusing everything on him and showing off for the mirror. “I’m good.”
“God, yes, you are.” Harrison gave a lusty moan as I gripped his cock. He was thicker than his overall build might suggest, wide base and cut, oval head that leaked copious amounts of precome the more I stroked. “Love your hands.”
“Yeah?” My brain tripped over the word love, even as my body continued to grind against him. He loved my farmer’s hands and my muscles, not me. And that was a good thing, and I had absolutely no business wishing for more sweet words when I should be concentrating on getting him off.
“So much.” Harrison was panting now, rocking into my fist, shoulders digging into me. “Fuck. Finn.”
“That’s it. Come apart for me.” We looked sexy as fuck in the mirror, him leaning against me, cock sliding through my fist, especially when he turned his head so we could share a clumsy kiss. The angle was shit for kissing, but hell if I was going to move anywhere.
“Want…you…too.” Reaching back, Harrison plucked at my jeans, intent clear. My cock was only too happy to take that invitation to leave the tight confines of my pants. I let go of him only long enough to shove my pants and boxer briefs down and out of the way.
“I will,” I said as I lined us up again. When I bent my knees a little more, my cock was at the perfect level to slide against the crease of his ass. Not fucking, but the sort of tight frot that I really loved. “This good?”
“So good,” Harrison groaned, tightening his ass and thighs so the friction was all the more blissful. “Makes me want…”
“We’ll get there.” I knew what he meant, and I had every intention of fucking him in this very position in front of the mirror to capture all his reactions, but we were both too close to change direction now. The darkening flush spreading across his chest and neck and the way his abs kept tensing said he was as worked up as I was. “Right now, I wanna see you come.”
“Hold me tighter.” Harrison leaned back, smashing us closer together. Felt so damn good that I had to groan too.
“You’ve got me.” And Harrison did. He had my free hand spread across his chest, locking us tight. He had me panting in his ear. Had me shuddering. Had me riveted, watching the way he gave himself up to pleasure. And he had me all tied up in knots with everything he made me feel and want. He had me, all right.
“Yes.” He bucked in my arms, hips chasing my fist, and his cock swelled further in my grip. “Yes. Finn.”
Seeing him climax in the mirror was fucking incredible, his come dripping down my fist, some even hitting the glass. His eyes shut as he shot, whole body tensing, that knife edge between pleasure and agony, and his expression was all it took for me to thrust harder against him. The friction was exactly what I needed—rough with his leg hair, warm with his super-heated skin, a little slick with our sweat.
“Me too. Fuck. Me too.” It wasn’t long at all until I was cursing and coming myself, holding him so close as we both trembled. “Fuck. So pretty.”
“Doubt that.” Harrison gave a tired laugh as we stumbled the couple of feet to his nicely made bed, collapsing all sweaty and sticky, probably doing damage to his pearl-gray comforter, but hell if I could care about anything other than holding him close a little longer.
“Don’t be all modest. You’re fucking hot. That was fucking hot.”
“But not hot fucking.” He giggled exactly like the teen I’d compared myself to earlier, and him silly and goofy was a wonderful thing. I enjoyed being able to make him this relaxed and comfortable, loved getting to see a side of him that I doubted he showed many.
“You’ve got jokes, Harry. And like I said, we’ll get there.”
“You think so?” Rolling toward me, he peered at me intently. Somehow he’d managed to keep his glasses on, even in our dash for the bed.