Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 121990 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121990 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
Zane’s fingertips made a gentle twist inside his hole, spreading to relax the muscle further. His confidence was calming Roach down. Zane was experienced. Knew what he was doing. It would be fine.
“It’s the only choice I’m gonna give you, dirty slut,” Zane whispered and slapped Roach’s thigh so hard the burn spread up his side. “Shall I rubber up?”
Roach rolled his face over the sheets, trying to find a whiff of Zane's scent on the pillow. “Bare. Will you do me bare?” His breath worked on fast forward, and he could sense every little touch, tickle, and slap out of proportion. “I don’t… fuck a lot, so you can trust me,” he added to get Zane on board even if it was an embarrassing thing to admit.
Roach shook with anticipation when Zane rested one foot on the edge of the mattress, pressing it against the side of Roach’s knee. “I don’t trust you, but if you have an STD, I also already have it, so I might as well fill you with my cream.”
His dick poked the back of Roach’s balls and slid up, until it joined Zane’s fingers at the hole, making it twitch around the digits as phantom bugs tickled Roach’s insides, making him push back.
No one had ever spoken to him like this. It was mean. But also hot. His balls were heavy with arousal, and his dick pulsed between his legs, but was it the dirty talk, or the fact that the guy of his literal dreams was touching him? He didn’t care Zane had the upper hand, because he could have gone off to fuck any other guy gagging for his dick. Instead, he was here, and he’d be taking his pleasure in Roach’s body even if he complained about it.
“Yeah, make me drip with your cum,” Roach moaned, lost in his desire, but his voice turned into a cry when the cockhead popped into him, spreading his sphincter, and then dove deeper, opening his body even as it stiffened with shock.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” He clawed the sheet, burning as if his insides burst with hellfire and Zane had poured vodka on top of his charring bones. That was one thick cock, but it had to be the fear that got the best of him. Once he managed to take another inhale, the ache in his ass became less alarming, and he realized he wasn’t under threat of serious harm. It was just the panic that had overtaken him and made him sweat.
Zane stiffened too, and he stilled halfway inside, rubbing up and down Roach’s back while the other squeezed his hip. “Fuck… f-fuck, you’re tense. Come on, you can do it. You can take it. You want to take it,” he said in a forceful whisper.
The touch on Roach’s back melted him like butter over a hot stove. This was what he wanted. More petting. “I do,” he whispered. “I’ve wanted a fuck like this for so long.”
He shook the tension out of his shoulders and focused on what really turned him on.
Zane. Hot for him despite the fucked-up start they’d had. Roach imagined what it would be like to spend every night under him, to live with him, to watch him play the guitar and be the one Zane kissed whenever he got off stage.
Maybe this curse, or whatever they were to call their bond, wouldn’t be so bad after all.
The initial ache faded, leaving behind a glorious sense of fullness that somehow also made his cock harden. He was in gay heaven, and Zane was an angel sent to show him the ropes.
A fist tightened in his hair and tugged, tugged until he rose, pressing his back to Zane’s naked chest, one strong arm climbing his chest, all the way to the jaw as Zane bottomed out inside him and slapped Roach’s hip in appreciation.
Their cocks pulsed in the same rhythm, and the sense of belonging spilled through Roach like hot, smooth coffee, the kind he couldn’t afford. He’d expected sex in its basic form. Simple. Horny. Finished with an orgasm. Not this overwhelming feeling.
He used to loathe most of his biker brothers, but being part of something had felt good. He’d known his place when they were still alive, and without them, he’d been left adrift. The solitude was better than the constant waterboarding his life had been, but also lonely and hopeless.
But in this strange, wonderful moment with Zane, he found his place in the world again.
So maybe it was fucked up. Big deal. He knew no other life than fucked up. This was better than normal in some ways. This was familiar pain.
He relaxed.
“Yeah… This is good,” Roach moaned, closing his eyes because he couldn’t see Zane’s face anyway. He’d tune into his scent and touch instead, and feel one with another person for the first time in… ever.