Total pages in book: 50
Estimated words: 48446 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 242(@200wpm)___ 194(@250wpm)___ 161(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 48446 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 242(@200wpm)___ 194(@250wpm)___ 161(@300wpm)
There was more lube. I felt the chill of it and the slide, and then he reached under me for my throbbing, leaking cock, his fingers tugging, fondling, twisting, pushing gently at the slit, rubbing the pulsing head, making me buck under him.
“I wish you could see yourself trust me, open for me… Weber…this is so honest, your need right now…you’re breaking my heart.”
“Fuck me,” I begged him. “Please, God, just do it.”
“I’ve never been with anyone without a condom. Only you, now, because I trust you completely, have since the beginning. I know your heart, and you’re a good man, and you would never lie to me.”
Three years between us, three years of trust that had been built on.
“In this respect, I am,” I promised him. “It will only ever be you, I promise.”
“You’re making a vow here, Web,” he said, easing his fingers from my stretched, lube-slicked hole.
I needed him. I craved the feeling of fullness, the line between pleasure and pain, the overwhelming desire to be taken and used.
“This is going to change everything,” he assured me, shoving me facedown into the comforter, lifting my ass high with his other hand, grabbing my hip, the hold almost painful. “And there’s no going back.”
I should have been terrified, but all I could do was fist my hands in the material as I felt his mouth on the small of my back.
“Do you trust me?”
“Yes.” I trembled under him.
“Only me?” he asked gently.
I nodded.
“Tell me,” he demanded, and the power of his voice, how insistent he was, the weight of his words, rolled right through me and made me shudder.
“Just you,” I barely managed to get out, grabbing hold of my heavy, dripping cock, stroking myself.
“You trust me not to hurt you, never to hurt you.”
“Yes,” I said huskily, my voice going out on me.
“Remember that,” he said, his hands on my ass cheeks spreading me roughly, the head of his cock pressing against my furled entrance.
The thought of what he was about to do had consumed me since the last time I saw him. We had been so close that time. I had been on the verge of begging him to have me, but I saw it in his face when he looked at me, in his gaze, the love, the possessiveness, the overwhelming need for me to stay. And then as the time wound down and I had to leave, he was so angry, so frustrated, that by the time I was ready to talk to him, to voice my deepest desire, I simply couldn’t. It wasn’t fair. I couldn’t bear to see the hurt on his face, so I’d kept my desire to myself.
But now he was claiming me, taking what he wanted, and I didn’t care, couldn’t be made to. It felt right, and I had no idea why.
“You’re mine now,” he said, and because of that, because of his very last word, because I myself knew better, I should have said wait. I should have said no, but all that passed my lips was please.
Please.
And then as he pressed inside me, “Oh God, Cyrus, please!”
But it changed so fast, started to hurt, and I wanted to take it back, scream at him to stop, because the pain built and burned and stung. I was full, so full, and stretched, and it was just too much. And then…he stopped. His hands were stroking over my back, my sides, there were open-mouthed kisses down my spine, and everything relaxed.
“You feel so good,” he murmured, hand stroking over my length as he moved slowly, gently, forward a fraction and then easing back, his hot mouth on the side of my neck eliciting a low, garbled moan. I wanted him, and my body stopped fighting the invasion and embraced it. When he pressed in deeper, then slid nearly free, I begged him for harder and faster.
“You sure?” he whispered.
“Yes, Cy, I’m sure,” I barely got out, trying to lift higher, to have more of him.
He pushed me down, and his movements went from gentle and seductive to power and dominance, and God it was hot. He pulled back, changed his angle, and rammed in deep and hard. I roared his name. Until that moment, I had no idea that all my yearning, all the pressure and pain and everything else just needed Cy inside me to finally be released. Knowing I wasn’t in control, that it was all him, freed me like nothing ever had. The surrender was absolute, overwhelming, devouring bliss.
“Cy!” I gasped, lost in the undertow.
He lifted my hand to my dick, reminding me of what I should have been doing, and I took direction, squeezing and tugging, the two sensations at once all-encompassing.
“You’re so tight, so hot. You need to come, baby, because feeling you, looking at you, I’m not… Oh God, please, Weber.”