Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 70570 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70570 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
“I want to make you feel good. I want to do something good tonight, because all I’ve done since I showed up in this town is bring misery to everyone.”
“This isn’t the time.” He suppresses a moan.
“Why can’t we just have some fun? You’re the one who’s been telling me I need to get out of my head. You’re the one who does whatever he wants, whenever he wants. Where’d that Samuel go?”
He’s totally hard now.
My hand won’t stop.
I bring my lips to his neck, where I put a kiss. “You want this. That’s what your body’s telling me.”
“It’s been an awful long time for me, too, of course it’s tellin’ you that.”
I keep kissing him, listening to his body. “You smell so good.”
“I won’t take—mmph—advantage of you—”
“A bit of wine in my system doesn’t make me an innocent boy to be taken advantage of. Just makes me worry less. Exactly what you’ve been telling me to do.” I nip his earlobe with my teeth. He grunts with clear, wanton desire. I move right in front of his face. “Give in to me already, Samuel.”
He stares at me, a storm of frustration in his eyes. “Malcolm, I’m not—” He lets out an angry huff.
Then he dives for my lips.
It’s perfection.
Every cell in my body is electrified when he touches me with his hands. And when our lips are together, nothing feels wrong at all. It’s a feeling I didn’t realize I needed so badly, as badly as life and breath and water. How have I survived so long without these lips on mine?
How have I survived so long without Samuel?
Things go from beautiful to dirty in an instant. My free hand claps onto his ass as I thrust my body against him, our mouths interlocked with mounting aggression.
This time, no one is here to interrupt us.
Our kissing becomes more chaotic. I move my lips to his chin, kissing, then to his neck, kissing deeper. I grab the bottom of his shirt and rigorously pull upward so my lips can find his chest. He’s so firm and warm. I keep kissing a path down his sexy body as my heart drums hungrily inside me.
“Malcolm …”
I reach his dick, now fully hard, fully awake, fully ready. My tongue drags up its whole length, where at its plump, mushroom tip I deliver a kiss. I part my lips to invite him in, my tongue softly bathing the head, wetting it, lapping at it playfully. Then I swallow him inch by inch.
“F-F-Fuck me,” he cries out.
Y’know, just like when he took a bite of the Tackle Burger.
I guess my mouth’s that hot.
Both of my hands find his ass cheeks, where I squeeze all the meat he’s packing back there, using them like handles to pull my head up and down his length.
I keep hearing him sigh above me, like he can’t believe this is his life right now either.
His sighs sometimes release the tiniest of moans.
It’s like candy to my ears.
“Malcolm … I really feel like … like we need to—”
“Move to the couch?” I suggest after coming up from his dick, which now throbs, wet and slick from my efforts. “Great idea.” I go for his mouth as I tug on his shirt, dragging him over to his couch.
He tries to say my name a few more times, but I won’t let him, unwilling to let go of him with my lips. It’s when we finally get to the couch that I topple onto my back with a surprised grunt. Did I trip, or did I lose my balance? I don’t care. I pull him on top of me, feeling all of his weight against my body, and start working his shirt off of him.
That’s when the room spins again, and I have to stop. “Whoa.”
He pulls away slightly, gazing down at me. “What is it?”
“My head. Just a bit, uh, spinny.” I laugh at myself, then tug on his shirt again, pulling his lips to mine.
He pulls away again. “Malcolm, I can’t do this.”
“Samuel,” I groan, annoyed.
He stands, pulls his sweatpants back up, and puts a hand to my chest. “Stay there. I’m gonna put on a pot of coffee.” He goes.
But not far—I cling to his wrist, stopping him. “Samuel, please don’t go … I don’t want coffee … I hate coffee …”
“You loved it the other morning. You’ll love it even more now when it helps you sober up.”
“Just lie here with me.” I yank on his hand with such force, he is brought to his knees in front of the couch. “Please. Just hold me. Climb onto this couch with me and—mmph, my head …”
The energy in the room suddenly grows soft and still. He lifts a hand gently to my forehead, brushing away wet bangs. “You are somethin’ else, Malckie.”