Page 35

“Why? Is it bothering you?”

The question catches me off guard. My eyes scan his body again, and this time I see the bulge. He’s hard as a rock. “Were you… about to... jack off in there?”

He takes another step forward and leans down. “Do you want to watch?”

The suggestion sends heat shooting through my body, and I try to push him away. But he catches my arm, his grip firm but not painful.

“Sage.”

“Slater… What are you doing?”

“I don’t have boundaries, baby. I sure as hell cannot control myself around you.”

“You haven’t even tried.”

“Oh, trust me. I’m fucking trying.”

The intensity in his voice, the way he’s looking at me like I’m something he wants to devour is too much. I turn and leave him standing alone in his room, my heart pounding as I retreat to the safety of the living room.

But even there, I can still feel the heat of his gaze on my skin. The way my body reacts to his. I’m pulsing between my legs. This isn’t fucking fair.

I’m standing here alone like I’ve been lit on fire. Every nerve ending is screaming, my skin too tight, my breath shallow. I shouldn’t go back in there, but I can’t fucking help it. What is he doing in there?

I storm back into his room without thinking, opening the door without knocking.

He’s naked with his hand wrapped around his cock, pumping slow and hard.

My breath catches at the sight, but he doesn’t stop.

“What happened to knocking on the damn door?” he grits out, pumping faster. “You literally just said we need boundaries.”

My eyes drop to his cock.

The sight of him—thick, flushed, already dripping—is obscene. Beautiful. My mouth goes dry, and I swear I feel my thighs clench around nothing. He’s still stroking, his gaze locked on me like I’m the center of a storm he’s been dying to get lost in.

My breath is stolen as I watch his movement. I don’t speak. I don’t have the words. I don’t leave. Maybe I do want to watch. My pulse is everywhere but heaviest right at my center.

On impulse, I tug my shirt over my head.

His nostrils flare.

“Sage,” he rasps, glancing at my bare breasts. “What are you doing?”

My fingers tremble as I shove my shorts down, standing in nothing but dark blue panties now. My chest rises and falls like I’ve just run miles.

He stops moving. Walks up to me slowly. Bare. Tall. So hard it looks painful.

His fingertips graze my stomach. I gasp. My skin tightens where he touches me, like every nerve is begging for more.

“I’m not asking you to do anything,” he murmurs.

I glance down, eyes locked on his dick—thick and wet at the tip. Holy fuck.

“I can’t take the tension anymore,” I breathe.

He tilts his head, brushing my hair back with aching tenderness. “Tell me what you want.”

I force myself to meet his eyes. “To take it slow.”

His lips twitch into a grin that promises anything but.

“This isn’t slow, baby. I want to fuck you like a rabbit and make you come until you forget your own name.”

My knees nearly buckle.

He pumps once, lazy and slow. “Look at me, Sage. I’ve got precum just standing this close to you. Fuck, you’re beautiful. So fucking beautiful.”

I look. I can’t not look.

He squeezes, a bead of slick glistening at the tip, and my pride evaporates. All that’s left is heat and want and this overwhelming ache that only he can fix.

“Is this what you want?” he rasps, hand stroking slow, deliberate. “Do you want me to fuck you, or do you want to watch?”

My eyes drop to his cock again. It’s thick, flushed, veins prominent. My mouth waters. He looks too big, too hard, too ready. I want to laugh. I want to fuck. I want to be his ruin.

I slide my panties down my thighs, slow enough for him to watch every inch of skin I reveal. His jaw tenses. His grip tightens. My pussy clenches at the sight.

I walk past him and crawl onto his bed—the same side I’d slept on just days ago.

“I’m not ready to have sex,” I say softly, laying back and spreading my legs just enough for him to see everything he’s dying for.

His eyes narrow. His cock twitches.

I curl my finger toward him. “Show me how much you want me.”

That’s all it takes.

He crosses the room like a storm, pumping himself in slow, punishing strokes. His teeth clench. His gaze is feral.

And then—

Ropes of come spill from him, hot and thick, painting his hand, his abs, the tip still pulsing. My mouth parts in shock. Did I make him come that fast?

He grabs a towel, wiping—until I stop him.

“No,” I whisper. “I want it on me.”

His eyes darken. That towel drops. He climbs between my thighs and without another word, his mouth crashes between my legs.

Oh my god.

He licks like he’s starving. His tongue working deep, slow, then fast, like he’s savoring my taste and trying to memorize everything. His hands grip my thighs, spreading me wider as his mouth devours me.

Then—his finger.

So.

Fucking.

Good.

He curls it just right and I scream, clutching the sheets, grabbing his hair, grinding down on his face. I’ll die if he stops. My body turns molten. I can’t even think.

My orgasm barrels through me like a freight train—violent, beautiful, unrelenting. My vision goes white as I cry out his name again and again.

But he’s not done.

He slides up, still naked, his cock heavy and slick against my inner thigh. He presses it to my entrance—not entering, just teasing.

“It’s going to feel so fucking good once I slide right inside you,” he growls, barely holding himself back.

My hips jerk. The pressure alone has me unraveling.

Then he’s back with his fingers. One. Then two. Curling. Stroking.

I gasp again, too wrecked to pretend I’m in control.

“You feel that?” he murmurs, mouth by my ear. “I’m going to make you come like this until you beg me to be inside you.”

“I’ll have you begging,” I pant, chest heaving, thighs trembling.

He lifts his head, eyes glowing with dark amusement. “We’ll see about that.”

And then his fingers are inside me again—two, maybe three—I can’t even tell anymore. I’m too far gone, too wrecked by the expert curl of his fingers and the relentless rhythm he sets. The wet sound of him working me fills the room. It’s filthy. It’s perfect.

“Oh fuck,” I gasp, my hips lifting off the bed.

He grins against my thigh, then dives back down.

His tongue flicks, circles, then flattens, all while his fingers work in sync like he’s orchestrating my ruin.

My moans break into gasps. My toes go numb. My body isn’t mine anymore—it’s his. Completely, utterly his. He’s breaking me, cracking me wide open.

I can’t believe how good he is. How confident. How determined. Like he knew I’d fall apart for him like this.

Then his voice—low, hoarse, devastating—breaks me completely.

“Come for me, baby.”

Oh, fuck. That does it.

Everything tightens, then…

Pleasure tears through me like lightning, sudden and wild. My thighs lock around his head, my back arches off the bed, and I scream his name like it’s the only word I know.

He groans into me like he’s coming too, and when I finally catch my breath, I look down just in time to see it happen.

Thick, hot ropes of come spill from his cock again, painting my stomach, adding to the mess he made earlier.

I can’t think. Can’t move.

Except for my hand.

I dip my finger into the warm slick on my stomach—slow, deliberate—and bring it to my lips.

He watches me like I’ve just shattered his soul.

I suck my finger clean, eyes locked with his.

“You are so fucking beautiful, Sage,” he says watching me. He puts his fingers into his mouth and sucks. “You taste so fucking good.”

Then he grabs my legs and licks my pussy one last time. I tremble at the contact. He grabs the towel and wipes my stomach clean.

He holds out a hand. “Let’s shower.”

I take his hand, not comprehending much of what he’s offering because my ears are buzzing. My fingertips are vibrating. My toes are hot. What the fuck did he do to me?

He turns on the shower and gets in. He faces the shower head the opposite way and says, “Get your ass in here.”

I step in and he faces the shower head to us once the curtain is closed.

“You always do this?” I ask as he lathers soap on his hands.

“You’re the only person that knows this bathroom exists.”

“Not even your mom?” I blurt.

He pretends not to hear me as he washes my stomach and then slides his hand down between my legs.

“Not even my mom,” he says, staring into my eyes. “Turn around.”

So demanding…

I turn around, feeling his hands wash my ass. There’s something about his touch right now that feels like so much more than a hookup.

I turn around and wrap my arms around him, allowing the water to spray me straight in the face. His arms pull me tighter, and we stand under the stream like this for a minute.

When I glance up at him, he kisses me.