Total pages in book: 171
Estimated words: 159500 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 798(@200wpm)___ 638(@250wpm)___ 532(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 159500 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 798(@200wpm)___ 638(@250wpm)___ 532(@300wpm)
“You don’t have shampoo,” he says and throws the wet towel to the floor after looking around. Maybe I need more furniture too, but it’s hard to focus on shit like that when he’s naked and approaching the bed.
He’s such a magnificent man—perfectly proportioned, like some ancient god worthy of dedicating a fancy statue to.
“I don’t really have hair,” I say, only to correct myself as I sit up, ready to pull him close. “But we’ll get something.”
“You do,” he smirks and climbs onto the bed, then over my thighs. I let out a groan when he slides his fingers over my stomach and into my pubes. “Where I like it.” His blue eyes glisten with lust, and it melts my insides that he’s just as horny for me as I am for him. We’re two perfectly aligned serrated edges.
“Yeah, you don’t want me to shave here too?” I ask, pulling on his arm, so we’re closer, his face hovering over mine. One of the damp locks of hair falls to my cheek, and then rolls farther, caressing my jaw. I knew he’d be using my soap, but smelling it on him is yet another layer to my arousal. It’s as if it’s confirming him as mine.
“No. I like you when you’re a hairy beast.” Clyde nips on my bottom lip as he slides even closer, so our chests touch, and our dicks align, sending sparks of arousal to my balls.
I chuckle, resting my hands on his bare hips, but I can’t help myself and soon let them explore the landscape of tanned skin stretched over taut muscle, first sliding up his back, and then lower. His tongue is like liquid fire on my neck, and I lift him with my hips, holding on to the pert buttocks I’ll soon be parting.
“You’re so damn hot,” I mutter, closing my eyes to focus on the way he feels on top. His breath scalds my flesh, and he rocks gently. I love the hair on his legs, and the size of his hands, and that he’s not some blushing flower. This man is mine.
“Glad that we’re a match then.” He licks over the side of my head, sending shivers down my spine, but it’s when he reaches back to lead my fingers between his ass cheeks that my brain becomes molten mush.
He wants it. He wasn’t sure, but after one night under me, he is. I’m proud as a damn peacock.
“Fuck yes…”
With a raspy chuckle on my lips, I grab the lube and roll my tongue through the dip under his collarbone. It’s like facing a buffet of the fanciest, most delicious food, only I don’t even need to run around to fill my plate, because Clyde has delivered himself to my bed. I squeeze the gel straight between his cheeks, and he shivers at the cool sensation of it, so very pliant to my touch.
“Will you be loud? Or will you try to keep quiet?” I whisper, ghosting my fingers over the back of his ass.
“Can I be loud?” He wraps his arms around my neck and hugs my head to his chest. I sense his heart beat faster, that vulnerability I love to dip my fingers into is back on the surface. And yet, he’s no less horny than before, as proven by his cock pressing against my stomach.
Someone might hover close to the cabin, trying to eavesdrop, but do I care?
“Not gonna lie, I love it when you are, telling me exactly what I’m doing to you. But yeah, someone might overhear us, so it’s up to you, Blue Eyes,” I say and dip my middle finger into the lube-filled crack. He stirs above me, and I capture his neck with my teeth, holding him close so he can’t flee. This is going to leave a mark, but I want it there. I want there to be no doubts about me and him.
That little whimper he lets out is fucking music. Do I love that he sat on me like it’s his God given right? Yes. But I also love how he becomes putty in my grasp and likes it. His body tightens around my finger, and he hugs my head, already pushing his stiff cock harder against my chest. He’s so perfect for me this way. Both strong and soft at the same time.
“Fuck them. If they spy, they only have themselves to blame,” he rasps against my scalp.
“Fuck yes,” I moan and raise one of my knees, pushing his legs farther apart. I sink my digit up to the knuckle and then move it back and forth in an easy glide that has us both grunting. I grab his hand and pull, forcing him to look down at me as I make several fast thrusts. The motion is keeping the muscles in my arm almost uncomfortably stretched, but when Clyde moves too, as if he were riding my hand, it’s gasoline to fuel my fire.