Series: Peach State Stepbros Series by Riley Hart
Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 92311 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92311 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
I do my best to go slow. The last thing I want is to hurt him. When I’m about halfway in, all that tight, incredible heat around me, I pause, looking at him to check for any kind of pain.
“You can keep going,” Troy says with a grin.
“I’m not sure I can. Probably gonna bust a nut the second you take all of me.”
He laughs, his body tightening around me deliciously.
“Oh fuck. Don’t do that. I really think you’re gonna kill me.” The feel of his body opening up for me, stretching to accommodate me, is the greatest high I’ve ever experienced, like I could just have him, only fuck him for the rest of my life and never get enough of him.
“If you don’t give me more, you’re going to be the one killing me. I can take it. I want to take it.”
My confidence soars at that, makes me feel like I’m the most important man in the whole damn world.
I give a little push with my hips, his hole swallowing more and more of me, in this slow dance I could easily become addicted to. The second my groin is against his ass, buried all the way to the hilt, Troy says, “Now you really need to fuck me. Hard.”
“Hell yes.”
I start with subtle thrusts, letting his body adjust to me. He reaches back, holding me, nails digging into me. “Please. More. So good.”
I pull out and slam into him again. We are lucky as fuck the bed isn’t hitting the wall. It’s a thick headboard, and though the bed is rocking, there’s no noise.
Troy pushes back against me too, working my cock with his ass like a damn pro. That thought makes jealousy surge through me for a moment.
“I hate that I’m not the only man who’s ever been inside you,” I say on a hard thrust.
“You’re the only one who will get to come inside me. No one but you.”
I growl in response, fucking harder, trying to give him all the pleasure he deserves, wanting him to always remember what it was like to be fucked by me.
My fingers dig into his hips.
“Harder,” he orders, and I know he doesn’t just mean the punishing thrusts of my hips, so I squeeze my hands tighter, knowing Troy wants me to mark him. That’s our thing, isn’t it? Leaving the evidence of each other behind.
My balls are painfully full. I want to unleash, want to fill him with my cum and then lie in this bed and spend hours looking at his cummy hole.
“Jerk it,” I tell him.
“No. I’m saving my load for you. Come inside me.”
Oh, well, okay. When he puts it that way.
I feel like I’m possessed, like the only way to stay alive is to fuck Troy with all that I have. That when I come inside him, he will officially be mine.
That’s the thought that sends me over the edge, that makes me feel lightheaded, my body tingly as I shoot, filling him, giving him what’s inside me.
“Yes…Atlas…”
“You like that? Like me marking you inside? You can’t deny you’re mine now, T. I’m inside you.”
My dick spurts again, and then I feel completely wrung dry.
I pull out, just as Troy flips us. He pushes me to my back, then starts furiously jacking his cock.
“Mark me, T. Paint me with your cum.”
His balls draw up, cock spurting, his release shooting out and landing on my chest, my stomach, and then he lets the rest shoot onto my face.
And I smile.
“Lick it off,” he says, and I do, tasting the salty seed that landed on my lips.
“I want that too.” I nod toward his cock.
Troy pushes it into my mouth, and I clean his cum off his dick. Troy falls to the mattress, then smashes his mouth on mine. I lick inside it, and he into mine.
“That was…so fucking hot,” Troy says.
“You know I’m always coming inside you raw now, right?”
“You’d better.”
Before I can reply—
“Atlas! Stop pouting and get down here so the two of you can finish dinner!” Glen shouts up the stairs.
“I already had my dinner—ass and cum,” I tease, and the two of us dissolve into laughter.
25
Troy
I inspect my faded hickey in the mirror. Just a subtle pink hue now.
This shouldn’t surprise me. It’s been two weeks since the auction. Two weeks since I proudly took Atlas’s load. But I have to admit, I was disappointed last weekend, when Atlas and I were surviving one of Mom and Glen’s extravagant Thanksgiving parties and no one even noticed what remained of the mark.
Soon, it’ll be gone.
What I need is something permanent. Something that will stay with me so much longer.
I’ve considered getting a tattoo of Atlas’s name—not seriously, but just imagined where it would go. Maybe something discreet, like the one I’d want for Atlas, under his pec. I don’t know that he’d want mine hidden, though. He’d want mine on display for others to know I’m his. Maybe on my neck.