Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 91635 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91635 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
“But…we don’t have…”
“My dress has inside pockets. Penny’s really quite clever. And yes, we do.” He traced his fingertip down Vic’s chest, then pulled back, catching his hand once more. “I know you, by now.”
Hot eyes rained over him, nearly stripping him, as Vic prowled after him. “You know what you do to me.”
Amani’s only answer was a glance through his lashes, as he coaxed Vic to follow him from the ballroom floor. But as they slipped into the recessed shadows lining the room, Vic took the lead, trailing along the fringes until they found a door leading off from the main hall. Furtive backward glances, breathlessly exchanged looks, and then they slipped through, into a darkened corridor that branched off into multiple shadowed, unused private banquet rooms. Amani gathered his skirts and ran with Vic, torn between laughter and tense, needy silence, his blood pounding, his core tight.
They ducked into the first room that would open for them, and Amani barely had a moment to slam the door behind them before he found himself slammed up against it, Vic’s body hot and hard and pinning him against his bulk. He stroked his fingers into Vic’s hair and dragged him down, crushing their lips together, falling into a kiss that was neither dominance nor submission but instead pure raw desperation, this nameless thing between them building to a break point and crashing over them with destructive force. They were hands everywhere, tearing at buttons, ripping at silks, and Amani arched against the door, tangling one leg around Vic’s as rough fingers stroked along his thighs, sank into the flesh, cupped and kneaded his ass.
Moaning hotly, he dragged his mouth over Vic’s throat, biting at him, slipping his fingers inside his shirt, caressing over tight skin and writhing to every touch that dragged him in and ground his hips to Vic’s, pressure like violence making heat burst through him as his cock dragged against his pet’s. He tore one hand from raking over Vic’s body, fumbling and searching the hidden pockets of his gown until he found the little bottle of lube—only for Vic to catch it from him, flicking it open, fingers coated and suddenly instead of Amani’s own fingers stretching himself it was Vic’s, rough things coated in silk, dragging his underwear aside and sliding inside him and lifting him up and twisting deep. He rocked his head back against the door, writhing and impaling himself on those fingers, living for the swift swelling rushes that poured over him each time Vic stroked him from inside. His cries were hungry, gasping, and he silenced them by stealing Vic’s mouth again, feinting his tongue against his pet’s and teasing in little darts.
But when those fingers slipped out of him, leaving him empty, he could barely stand the agonizing seconds with the rasp of Vic’s zipper the clicking cap on the lube bottle, the muted thud of the bottle on the carpeted floor. Vic pressed hard against him, those wild animal breaths washing against his throat, his chest, as Vic drew his legs apart, spreading him, baring him, opening him for the burning press and heavy weight of his cock.
Their breaths mingled in tandem rushes, as Vic filled him. Their bodies moved, and Amani lost himself with utter abandon, chasing every thrust that burned him from the inside out, melted him with slick friction, kissed deep inside with a wicked tongue searching and stretching every forbidden place within him. Every sound between them was a whisper, and every sound on Amani’s lips was “Vic, Vic” as he kissed him again and again and again, sharing their breaths. Vic felt too good inside him, dripping and sinful and hard-ridged, the flare of his cock-head stretching Amani in ways that melted him, tore him apart, scattered the pieces into a needy wreck.
And when Vic slammed him hard against the door, capturing his mouth and kissing him deep, angling his body so Vic could fill him more and more on very powerful thrust, working his fingers over Amani’s cock brimming with a feral ferocity that seemed to have slipped its leash…
He collapsed, coming undone, everything that held him together tumbling apart until he was crashing, clinging, arching, clenching, bursting as he went so tight around Vic’s cock and milked it inside him, begging for more. Begging for that last dripping burst, that feeling of being deliciously used, that jerking throb of spilling flesh inside him. When Vic gave it to him in sharp, short shudders of his hips, groaning, Amani gasped out in pleasure, squeezing his thighs against Vic’s hips, rolling and undulating his own to take every drop deep, deep, so fucking deep.
They came down together in a limp tangle, practically radiating steam from the heat trapped between them, sagging in a tangle to the floor and leaning there hard. Panting hoarsely, Vic rested his brow to Amani’s chest, and Amani enfolded him close, nosing lazy, sated kisses into his hair and just existing in the quiet as his blood slowed its rush.