Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 92536 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92536 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
“I was ready the moment you stormed out here like a jealous caveman.”
Tate gave another of those dark chuckles as he lined his cock up with Liam’s hole.
“Make me feel it for days.” Days.
Tate’s fingers flexed on his hips, and he swore a savage curse. “Why do I have a feeling you won’t be so mouthy in a second?” he asked before he drove his cock inside Liam with a brutal thrust.
The pleasure was instant and overwhelming, riding right at the edge of pain. Tate nailed his prostate on the first thrust, and the combination of discomfort and pleasure had him shouting out Tate’s name.
A palm slapped over his mouth. “Much as I love you screaming my name, I don’t want anyone to come investigate the noise. I’m the only one who gets to see you with my cock buried inside your tight ass.”
Not because he was worried about being outed but because he had a possessive need to keep Liam to himself.
If he could have swooned, he would have, but the thick rod inside him made it impossible. Instead, he mumbled, “Fuck me!” against the palm smothering him.
Tate did just that.
Liam’s entire world centered on the two of them in their bubble out behind his studio. He moaned and whimpered into Tate’s hand as he endured the hottest, most primal fucking of his life. With the coarse brick digging into his palms, he pushed back, meeting Tate’s every thrust with sharp punches of his hips. His prostate took the most delicious pounding. A constant buzz of electricity traveled out through his limbs.
“How is your ass this fucking tight?” Tate rumbled next to his ear before sucking on his earlobe. “Fucking heaven.” His left hand trailed from Liam’s hip to grip his cock.
Liam’s eyes rolled back, and his knees tried to give out. The man was a righty but just as skilled at stroking cock with his left hand. Liam trembled, mind muddled, and body losing control. Every thrust brought him closer to what promised to be a world-changing climax.
This was it. The point of no return. There was no coming back from a fuck as good as this one because it wasn’t just a fuck. Tate might not believe or understand it, and Liam was too chickenshit to admit it, but this time their sex was fueled by emotion as well as straight lust.
Teeth grazed his neck as the hand on his dick tightened.
“Oh God,” he mumbled into Tate’s damp palm. “I’m close. I’m so close.”
The thrusts and hand stroking him sped to a furious pace as Tate growled, “Me too.” His mouth latched onto Liam’s neck, sucking with the force of a damn Dyson and sending Liam over the edge.
He shouted into Tate’s palm just as he felt the man jerk behind him with his own orgasm. Tate shouted through clenched teeth. Tate’s grip on Liam’s dick became punishing, as though he had no control over his strength.
A jangling bell registered through the fog of a powerful orgasm.
“Tate? Yo, T, you here?”
Randy’s voice ripped through the sexual haze surrounding them.
“Shit.” In a move so fast that Liam couldn’t process it, Tate pulled out of him and sprang away like Liam was on fire.
Christ, he’d barely finished coming and couldn’t process what was happening, but he could feel the deep freeze that took over Tate.
One glance over his shoulder revealed Tate standing statue-still with his pants at his knees, his condom-covered cock soft and dangling, and an expression of abject horror on his face.
They could handle this. They just needed to cover up and pretend Tate had come to help Liam paint. He reached back for Tate’s hand.
“Don’t fucking touch me.” Tate jumped back so fast that Liam instantly yanked his hand away. The harsh whisper pierced his heart.
“Shit, shit,” Tate muttered. He shoved his dick, condom and all into his underwear and did up his jeans in record time.
Liam tried to turn around so he could reassure Tate everything would be okay. He forgot about his shorts around his ankles and the second he took a step, he tripped. He bit his lip to keep from shouting as he crashed to the ground, landing on all fours with a painful crunch. The metallic taste of blood flooded his mouth.
“Tate? You out back or something?”
Liam stared up at Tate from his spot on the ground. There he was, eyes teary, bare, recently fucked, ass out for all the world to see, and palms and knees stinging like they’d been attacked by a swarm of bees.
Tate’s eyes were wild and panicked as he glanced down. “I-I’m sorry,” he said, shaking his head. Then he darted into the building and, in a voice that made it seem as though he’d been out for a Sunday stroll, said, “Hey, Randy. What’re you doing here?”