Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 97466 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97466 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Not without Oscar.
I reached my hand around him, wiping the spit and precum from his mouth and using it to slick my palm. Then, I grabbed his cock.
To one side of us was a nearly full-length mirror, and I watched our reflections as I fisted him. My eyes feasted on his half-naked body, reveling in the flush crawling up his neck and the utter abandon of his expression. I ground my cock against his ass cheeks as he bucked against my hand. I jerked him hard and fast until he was quivering and moaning.
In that moment, Oscar was mine and mine alone.
That thought sent me over the edge. I buried my face against the base of his neck, taking the tendon along his shoulder between my teeth and groaning as I came against his lower back.
“Oh fuck, oh god, yes!” he cried, his hips jerking as I pumped him. And then he was coming too, head thrown back against my neck.
He sagged against me. My legs were too weak to hold us both up, and I cradled him against me as I slipped to the floor. I lay back, shivering, as the cold from the tiles seeped into my bare skin and pulled Oscar on top of me.
“Note to self,” I whispered, grinning. “Marble floors: pretty but not functional.”
Oscar chuckled, his breath warm against my chest. I trailed my fingers through his hair, down his back, and back up again in a soothing gesture. He turned his head, pressing a single kiss to my sternum, then lifted one eyebrow at me and smiled.
There was something so simple and easy in that kiss, so sweetly devastating in that smile, that my lust fog fell away for a moment. Maybe this guy could be it. Maybe I could change his mind about love, and this could be—
“Ten out of ten for the fucking,” Oscar said in a thoughtful voice. “But I have to deduct points for the marble, and…” He glanced sideways at the shards of broken pottery and sodden flowers and winced theatrically. “Significant points for the collateral damage. So I’d give it… maybe a four overall?”
“Did you… did you just…?” I glared at him, and he shrugged. “A four?”
Oscar pressed his lips together like he was trying to fight his smirk and losing spectacularly. “I don’t make the rules, Hugh.” He bit lightly at my nipple, and I hissed. “But I could be persuaded to try again. See if we could bring that score up. There’s a huge tub in the bathroom.” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “And I’m a sucker for baths.”
I gasped in an outraged breath and rolled us so that Oscar was splayed out on the cold stone, laughing up at me. “You’re gonna regret this, Mr. Overton.”
“Am I?” he drawled.
I wrapped my hands around his wrists, and he grunted slightly as I pinned them to the floor. “Mmhmm. Little-known fact, but I’m a bit of a perfectionist. I will get a ten…”
“I’m terrified.” He mock shivered. “Truly.”
“And when I do, it will be unforgettable. Un-toppable. The very best sexual encounter of your entire life,” I vowed.
Oscar snorted, eyes closed, and turned on his side with a little yawn. “Mmhmm.”
I ran my teeth along the edge of his jaw and bit the tendon in his neck so hard he gasped. Despite his sleepiness, his well-satisfied cock began to stir with renewed interest. It was a powerful feeling.
“Oscar?” I said sweetly, trailing my hand down one hairy thigh to his knee and then back up the sensitive skin near the base of his cock. “Last chance to change your mind.”
“Do your worst, Hugh Linzee.” He pinned me with a look, and heat blazed between us. “I promise you, I rarely change my mind about anything.”
In the moment, those words felt like a challenge. A dare. An opportunity.
It would be a long time before I realized they’d been a warning.
3
OSCAR
When I started to wake in the predawn hours, I instinctively reached across the sheet, searching for something. When I encountered only a slightly warmer spot in the otherwise empty bed, it jolted me into awareness—the wedding, the reception, the aftermath… Hugh.
I froze for a moment, listening for the shower, for the sound of someone breathing or the whisper of fabric, but there was nothing. I was alone in the silence. Hugh was gone.
I sighed and flopped onto my back, grinning up at the shadowed ceiling as I stretched out the pleasant ache in my muscles.
Christ, what an incredible night. Hugh hadn’t lied when he’d warned me he was competitive, but he’d neglected to warn me how talented he was with his tongue. My cock twitched hopefully beneath the soft sheets. Very talented indeed.
Despite joking with him the night before, I was not in the habit of ranking sexual encounters. That would be shitty—not to mention pointless since I tended to forget most by the morning after. Still, I could say with confidence that sex with Hugh was some of the best I’d ever had. Scorching hot and thrilling, yes, but interlaced with comfortable periods where we joked about our worst dates and our favorite movie pickup lines.