Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 69004 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69004 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
It was then when Matt’s head tilted up, that he shook his hair off his forehead and his eyes met Oliver’s searing with something that he didn’t understand. He thought maybe there was some pain in there…a little confusion but more that Oliver couldn’t read.
His breath caught when Matt pushed to his feet. The shorts hung low on his slender hips, and he was sure Matt didn’t have underwear beneath them.
His chest was smooth. He had a light trail of brown hair that dipped below his shorts, which hung so low he could see the top of Matt’s pubes.
Despite how thin he was, too thin if you asked Oliver, his muscles were well defined. He had a lean six-pack that rose slightly as Matt breathed.
Jesus, he was so fucking sexy, so beautiful it seemed unreal.
Matt moved toward him again. His gaze turned more predatory as chaos erupted inside of Oliver—pain and confusion and lust…was that what he saw in Matt too? Lust was the missing piece?
His thoughts went haywire, snapping and buzzing with years of pent up energy. And then he was moving toward Matt too. He didn’t know what they were doing, didn’t know where it came from—at least on Matt’s part—but the second they met in the middle of the room, their mouths crashed together. Matt’s hand slid behind his head, cupped it with his fingers, tangled in Oliver’s wet hair. Oliver’s fingers locked onto Matt’s lean hips, felt his hipbone press into his hand and he wanted to get on his knees and taste them. Wanted to lick and suck and explore every fucking inch of Matt’s body with his tongue.
“What are we doing?” he asked when Matt’s skillful mouth traveled down his throat.
Matt sucked on the spot where his neck met his shoulder, before he replied, “I don’t know, Ollie. I just know…know that I need you right now.”
He could hear Matt warring with himself, hear it in the rough edge to his voice. Feel it in the way his body tensed up when he said the word need. It wasn’t easy for Matt to need anyone or anything, but Oliver would take on the fucking universe to make sure Matt had it. There wasn’t a time in his life when he wouldn’t but this moment right here? He couldn’t pretend this was just for Matt. Couldn’t pretend he wasn’t greedy for him, that the fire searing through him for Matt was based on anything more than his primal hunger for the man. To have him, take him, fuck him, even if it was only once. He’d wanted Matt for years, loved him since he was a kid—and as they stood in the middle of his room, Matt’s hand running up and down his back, his cock pressed against Oliver’s leg, he damn sure planned to have him. In that moment, he didn’t give a shit about the consequences.
Oliver wrapped his arms around Matt, lifted him up, their mouths still fused together. Matt’s legs wrapped around his waist, knocking Oliver’s towel free as he carried Matt to the bed.
He bent over, lay Matt down and went right along with him, nestled between Matt’s legs, with his feet still on the floor.
He pulled away long enough to say, “Jesus, you taste so fucking good,” and then he was kissing Matt again, letting his tongue roam Matt’s mouth as he thrust his aching prick against him.
His brain tried to tell him it was a mistake, that he shouldn’t be doing this but Oliver ignored it. Right now he didn’t want to be logical. He didn’t want to worry about consequences or his stupid fucking heart. In that moment, he just wanted sex, wanted to have Matt, so he ignored his brain and kissed his way down Matt’s neck, his chest, his stomach, until he kneeled on the floor between Matt’s legs, his hard rod evident behind his shorts.
He palmed Matt’s cock through his shorts, felt the heat of it despite the material. Matt hissed, moved his hips so that his shaft pushed into Oliver’s hand harder.
“Take me out.…Please, Ollie. Take me out.”
“Ask me again,” Oliver told him as he continued to work Matt through his clothes.
“You’re gonna make me beg for it?” Matt asked. Oliver wouldn’t; they both knew that. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind that Matt knew better, but still, he opened his mouth and said, “Take out my cock, Oliver. Let me feel you. I need to feel you.”
Oliver’s fingers shook as bursts of electricity shot through his body. He grabbed the top of Matt’s shorts and pulled them down his thighs as his prick sprung free. He was long, thinner than Oliver himself, with trimmed pubes and a heavy sac. Across his left hip was a tribal tattoo that would typically be covered by his underwear. He leaned forward and kissed it. Let his tongue trace the swirls and lines. Lust pummeled him, made Oliver even more ravenous for him as he pulled back and situated Matt’s legs on one side of him so he could pull the shorts all the way off.