Third Time Lucky Read online R.G. Alexander (Finn’s Pub Romance #3)

Categories Genre: Gay, GLBT, M-M Romance, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Finn's Pub Romance Series by R.G. Alexander
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Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 84394 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 338(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
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Surprise.

“No boxers?”

“Maybe you’re a bad influence,” I say with my cheek pressed against the cool wood, ass in the air. Maybe I was in a hurry for this and wanted as few barriers in the way as possible.

“Three strikes?” The dark question is all the warning I get before his hand lands on one bared cheek, then the other and back again. All landing with a loud smack. Harder than I’d expected.

“Jesus.”

The pain is sharp but quick, fading to a continuous burn. I feel a spike of adrenaline and desire coursing through me. My cock is already wet with precum. I had no idea whether I would like that or not, but I do.

I really do.

“You good?”

My smile feels drunk. “Is that all you’ve got?”

Did I mention I was asking for it? I had no idea I was this kinky and sex-starved. I want him all the time now. It never goes away so much as momentarily fades into the background. It’s like my body knows it’s on borrowed time and wants to hoard it all while it still can.

He squeezes my stinging cheek and I hear a drawer opening and the sound of crinkling foil. He came prepared.

“I woke up hard enough to hammer nails,” he grumbles behind me, dripping lube between my cheeks and sliding in his middle finger roughly. “That thing you did with your toy last night had me considering breaking and entering. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since you hung up the phone.”

“Then my work here is done,” I wheeze, pushing back against his finger hungrily.

“We’re nowhere near done, Joey.” He lines up his cock and thrusts deep with a low, rumbling groan. “Not even close.”

I hope not, because I can’t get enough of this. He fills me up. Makes me weak. Makes me want to shout how I feel about him off our fucking balcony. “More.”

Elliot’s fingers fist in my hair and he tugs my head off the desk, his hips pumping against mine as he bites my ear and leaves an open-mouthed kiss on my jaw. “You want more? I should spank you again for being so greedy for it you couldn’t wait. You made me jealous of that fake dick you were teasing me with. I had to watch you work it inside yourself, knowing exactly what it would feel like. Knowing I could do it better. This sweet little ass is mine to fuck, Joey.”

Mine. I shudder beneath him at the claim. “I thought you liked watching me,” I say on a huff as he pushes the breath out of me.

His next thrust rams me into the desk with a force that jars the solid oak. “You want to please me? I’ve got a key with your name on it. I gave it to you last week. If you want me, you sneak into my bed and wake me up with your mouth on my dick. And the next time I visit your office, you lock the door and show me this ass instead of a damn bouncy castle.”

I love it when he gets like this. Possessive and domineering. This side of him only comes out when we’re like this. It’s just for me and it makes my fucking thighs shake.

I still can’t use the key. That makes this something more. I want it, but I can’t have it. “Again,” I groan when he swivels his hips mid thrust and hits me just right. “Don’t stop.”

“I can’t. It feels too damn good,” he whispers harshly against my neck before sucking the flesh there. His rigid arousal stretches me wide, taking up every inch, filling me. Owning me. He’s everywhere and I’m too close to hold off.

I shift to grip my erection and his hand covers mine over my cock. He’s guiding me. Controlling my pleasure. My climax.

“Come for me,” he growls. “I’m hungry, Joey. Give it to me so I can suck it off my fingers.”

Oh God.

“Coming,” I shout into the desk, the only warning before I feel that bang again, but this time he’s coming with me. Both of us shake and cling to each other as it crashes into us, destroying everything in its wake and leaving our remains in the quiet office, the echoes of our cries still fading into the old brick.

“Mother of balls,” I mutter, my sweaty face plastered to a Post-it. Where did that come from?

He chuckles weakly against my back. “You’re killing me.”

“You’re an athlete in your prime. I’m the sedentary businessman who might not survive our association.”

He levers himself off of me and slaps my ass. Playfully this time. “Then let me help you up, old man.”

“Fuck off.” I’m only a year older than he is. Though if we’re counting maturity, he’s actually got seniority due to his refusal to even enter my castle.


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