Total pages in book: 16
Estimated words: 15318 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 77(@200wpm)___ 61(@250wpm)___ 51(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 15318 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 77(@200wpm)___ 61(@250wpm)___ 51(@300wpm)
Pulling his fingers out with an obscene slick sound, Peter nudged his cockhead against Justin’s hole. He went still, teasing them both, but Justin lifted his ass higher, practically fucking himself back on his cock.
They both groaned as the head popped in.
Fuck, he was so damn tight.
Peter mouthed Justin’s bare shoulder, breathing hard as he resisted the urge to just pound into him.
He pushed inside slowly, relishing the way his associate’s hole took him easily, surrounding his cock in velvet, pulsing heat.
“On second thought, this is the worst idea ever,” Justin ground out breathlessly. “I’ll never be able to look at you without remembering what your cock feels like inside of me.”
Good, something whispered at the back of Peter’s mind viciously. I’ll fuck you so good you won’t be able to live without my cock in you.
Shaking the insane thought off, Peter sank his teeth into Justin’s shoulder and started thrusting, aiming for Justin’s prostate. He was rewarded with quiet, helpless whimpers that quickly grew in volume.
“Oh—ahh—there—Peter...”
There was something about the way Justin moaned out his name that went straight to his cock. The boy was fucking born to moan his name, born to take his cock, born to have his hickeys all over his body.
Peter sucked hickeys into his neck and shoulders, his thrusts becoming harder and shorter, like that of an animal pistoning into a bitch in heat. Justin’s moans turned into high-pitched whines, and he was slamming back onto Peter’s cock as though he couldn’t get enough of it, getting on his elbows and knees.
Slipping his hand down, Peter grabbed Justin’s hard, heavy cock and started stroking it in time with his thrusts, watching Justin’s face hungrily. His own cock was an afterthought; he couldn’t look away from Justin’s profile: his parted lips and slack jaw as he let out blissed-out moans at every thrust of Peter’s cock. Watching his face was the biggest turn on of Peter’s life. He couldn’t look away, snapping his hips harder and harder, until Justin’s face crumpled into sobs. He spilled into Peter’s hand with a cry and his knees gave out beneath him. But Peter slipped an arm around him and hauled him back so that he was leaning weakly back against Peter’s chest. Groaning, Peter fucked into him with hard, desperate thrusts until he felt his own orgasm ripping through him.
He slumped on top of Justin, completely spent.
Christ. So damn good. He’d never felt better in his life.
For a long moment, the sounds of their heavy, panting breaths filled the room.
“You’re heavy,” Justin mumbled.
“I’m not moving.” His limbs felt too heavy to move. All he wanted was to close his eyes and go back to sleep like that, still buried inside his associate.
“Didn’t say I wanted you to move. This is nice.”
“Mhmm. We still have about fifteen minutes before we have to get up.”
Justin snickered. “We’re ahead of schedule, then.”
Smiling, Peter mouthed his sweaty shoulder. “That’s why we’re the best team in the firm. We’re very efficient.”
“We are,” Justin said softly—fondly?—turning his head and pressing his cheek against Peter’s. “Your face is all prickly,” he said with a laugh, but it didn’t seem as though he minded.
Peter breathed him in, suddenly wondering if fifteen minutes was enough for another round. He didn’t want to pull away, didn’t want to pull out of him.
It was ridiculous. He’d always had a very healthy sex drive, but fifteen minutes was nowhere near enough for him to get it up again.
Besides, it was supposed to be a one-time thing.
This must be enough for him, to stop being so distracted by his associate.
It had to be, for both of their careers’ sakes.
Chapter 9
Peter’s hopes that he would no longer be distracted at work were crushed after they walked into the office.
He couldn’t stop noticing how good Justin looked in the clothes he’d had to borrow from Peter’s closet. It had little to do with how good Justin actually looked, and everything to do with the fact that Justin was wearing his shirt and tie. It was hardly the first time Justin had worn his clothes—far from it—but it was the first time Peter had been aware of where the satisfaction stemmed from. He’d always liked seeing Justin in his clothes; it seemed he’d just been in denial about the real reason he’d liked it.
Damn it, this was bad.
To Peter’s credit, he managed to keep his hands off his associate for the first three hours. It wasn’t easy, when Justin looked positively delicious and kept blushing every time their eyes met. Those flustered looks slowly but surely eroded Peter’s self-control, and soon enough, he found himself shoving Justin onto his desk, crushing their mouths together, and all but climbing on top of him. He needed to get inside him again.
Afterward, both of them had to change their clothes.