Next Season (The Elmwood Stories #2) Read Online Lane Hayes

Categories Genre: M-M Romance, Sports Tags Authors: Series: The Elmwood Stories Series by Lane Hayes
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Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 64238 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 321(@200wpm)___ 257(@250wpm)___ 214(@300wpm)
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Okay…let’s take a moment to appreciate how insane this was.

A month ago, I wouldn’t have been here. No way.

We’d gone from kissing to hand jobs and blowjobs in record time, so I wasn’t sure why this seemed like a big deal, yet here I was—naked in a man’s bed in the middle of the day, presenting my ass like a gift for him to unwrap at his earliest convenience.

He climbed behind me, onto the mattress, with a bottle of lube in hand. He slicked his fingers and rubbed featherlight circles while humming something soft and sexy in French. My muscles began to relax. I hung my head low, releasing a cleansing breath as he teased my hole, pushing a finger inside.

That was good. And familiar.

So was the second finger.

I arched into his touch, willing him to do that twisty thing with his wrist and massage my prostate. I liked that. A lot. He didn’t disappoint. I groaned, falling to my forearms to brace myself when he reached between my legs to grip my cock and fondle my balls.

“Mmm. Fuck, be careful. I might come if you keep this up,” I warned.

“You want me to hurry?”

“No, but…shouldn’t you get suited up and you know…get to it?”

Jean-Claude chuckled. “If you say so.”

I looked over my shoulder, spooked at the sound of a condom wrapper. “Wait. I want this…I do, but if I change my mind—”

“We stop,” he supplied, rolling the latex on and adding more lube. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss on my neck. “We won’t do anything you don’t want. You say yes, we go. You say no, we stop. Okay?”

There it was—that impossibly kind side of his, defusing panic with a gentle tone and a reassuring touch. This was the same man who’d brought me tuna salad in a rainstorm and chased me all over a skating rink on his day off. He was gruff and impatient and silly and fun and so fucking sexy…and right this second, I’d never wanted anyone more.

“Okay,” I whispered. “Just tell me what to do.”

“Relax. That is all.”

His fingers were inside me again. Two…three. He made sure I was strung out and close to desperate before pulling away. I hated the empty feeling, but he didn’t make me wait for long. He slid his sheathed dick between my cheeks, grazing my entrance over and over till every nerve in my body was lit up.

And just when I thought he’d make me beg, he pushed his way inside. I tensed immediately. He was big and this was new and I had a bad feeling this would end up being the shortest experiment ever ’cause I couldn’t imagine anything more humiliating than lying facedown on someone else’s mattress, gritting my teeth as I took it up the ass. No, thanks.

I shifted my weight to my hands, intending to tackle him, then distract him with the best BJ ever. Jean-Claude had other ideas.

He motioned for me to lie on my back.

I kneeled instead, scooting to face him. “No. Let me—"

He kissed me, hard and needy, brushing our noses as he raked my bottom lip between his teeth. “Do you trust me, Riley?”

“Yes.”

“Good. I want to see you spread your thighs, and show yourself to me,” he demanded.

Gulp.

“I can’t believe you say shit like that to me.” Of course, I obeyed to the T—legs open with my hard-as-nails dick leaking precum on my belly.

He didn’t reply. His gaze was locked on my ass as he guided his cock to my hole, breaching me inch by glorious inch. My breath hitched, driving my lungs into my throat. I didn’t dare exhale until he was fully seated.

“Okay?” he asked, threading his fingers in my hair.

I swallowed around the Sahara in my throat and nodded.

It hurt for sure, but as the pain faded, it started to feel kind of amazing. I didn’t know what to do with my hands, so I rested them on his chest, idly rubbing his nipples with the pads of my thumbs. He liked that. He captured one of my wrists, pulled all the way out, and plunged inside again.

“Holy fuck! That’s good. So good. Oh, yeah. Just like that,” I babbled.

Jean-Claude bent to kiss me, slipping his tongue between my lips as he finally began to move, sweet and steady. And wow…I’d never dreamed it could be this good. Never. I’d never felt so many sensations at once—layer upon layer. His hands pinning me to the mattress, his belly rubbing my cock, his beard on my cheek, his soft lips on mine, and those urgent, soul-sweeping kisses—all moving in time to the rhythm he set with his hips.

Yeah, his dick felt incredible, but it was him. The way he surrounded me, held me, cared for me, and fucked me like a god, powerful and majestic. He seemed to know exactly what I needed, gradually upping the pace and snapping his hips while I moaned his name and raked my nails down his back.



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