Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 118125 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 591(@200wpm)___ 473(@250wpm)___ 394(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 118125 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 591(@200wpm)___ 473(@250wpm)___ 394(@300wpm)
“Gonna need you to behave yourself for a minute,” he rumbled. “Or you’re gonna make me lose it, Rian.”
Rian let out a sulky little sound, twisting under Damon—only to gasp as that movement seemed to slip Damon between his legs as if he belonged there, until they were no longer tangled but instead nested together with Damon’s hips cradled between Rian’s thighs...and Rian’s thighs spread to the point of pain, when the thickness of Damon’s body gave him no choice but to open himself wide so Damon could fit.
“Cruel,” he whispered, and that half smile turned downright wicked.
“Nah,” Damon practically purred. “I’m about to be real nice to you.”
That cockiness, that arrogance felt like a façade laid over the stripped-bare, painful emotions twisting between both of them—but Rian hardly had time to even think about it when Damon caught his briefs and dragged them down his legs, twisting his own body out of the way to pull them free and leaving Rian completely naked. Like this, there was nothing to shield how aroused he was; how much Damon affected him, when Rian’s cock stood so hard and needy it almost teased against his navel, his own pre-come leaking against his skin in bright, hot little droplets that felt like lava dripped on his flesh, when everything was so heightened the smallest sensation felt too real; too much.
Yet more so still was the intensity of being looked at the way Damon did, gaze raking hotly over Rian as if he’d strip him not just of his clothing, but the last layer of defenses he had left; the last attempt he could ever make to deny how much he wanted Damon; how much the man got under his skin, slipped inside him, made himself at home in all those secret places Rian couldn’t stand to look at because they made him feel so weak.
And he was weak for Damon now as—still pinning Rian’s wrists to the bed—Damon grazed a hand along Rian’s inner thigh, coaxing him further open, sliding upward with that rough, scorching touch to curl a hand under Rian’s ass and squeeze, making Rian gasp and lift his hips. More; he wanted more of what that touch promised, a wild throbbing building inside and begging for it...and Damon gave him more, pulling away only long enough to flick the cap off the bottle of lube and tilt it to slick over his fingers before he thumbed it closed. Dropped it on the pillow.
And slid those gleaming fingers between Rian’s thighs, tormenting him with the slightest brush over the base of his overheated, achingly hard cock before slipping lower, stroking silk-oil wetness along the cleft of his ass, making Rian’s entire body clench in anticipation. One finger delved deeper, parting him, spreading him open, finding the sensitive tight point of his entrance; he sucked in rapid breaths, tugging at his captured arms, arching underneath Damon as that single rough fingertip circled and massaged, teased and stroked, working against tight muscle and coaxing Rian’s body looser and looser.
The entire time Damon’s gaze never left him, pinning him as thoroughly as those hands on his wrists, as if Damon wouldn’t let a single of Rian’s reactions escape his scrutiny; as if he would drink Rian into himself. Rian tossed his head from side to side, eyes closing, but he could escape the pressure of those dark, heated brown eyes no more than he could escape the pressure of that thick, blunt finger as it began to press inside.
Even with the slickness of the lube, Damon’s fingers were so rough, so hard, all softness chiseled out of even the finger-pads by hard work and callusing until everything inside Rian was stretching and friction and just enough pain to make him need more. He let out a hard, broken cry, kicking his feet against the quilts and lifting himself up as that finger slipped deeper and deeper, rousing every nerve ending inside him to awareness until he could feel the tiniest intimate detail of curling knuckles and a stroking fingertip and the raspy-wet glide of weathered skin. God, just one finger felt so good...and then a second joined it and Rian nearly screamed, the fullness of it so unbearable, so wonderful.
“Hey,” Damon coaxed softly, brushing his lips over Rian’s, his harsh, short breaths mingling with Rian’s panting gasps. “Relax for me a little. Let me in.”
As if he hadn’t already.
As if he hadn’t somehow let this man get so deep inside him that it drove him to distraction and left him frustrated and angry and wanting all the damned time.
And he wanted this so much that he couldn’t even deny, couldn’t even protest as a third finger slowly worked inside and left him keening softly, completely helpless, his body taken over by that feeling thrusting and twisting and searching inside him, making him feel every touch as Damon worked his body so thoroughly. Over and over again Damon slid inside him, each stroke gliding in just a little easier even as Rian’s needy body clenched and tightened, trying to hold on to that sensation, trying to hold on to...to...