Page 74 of Beehive

His mouth left mine as his head lowered. His tongue circled a nipple.

A shiver streaked across my skin. I was always so sensitive, and he knew it.

I couldfeelhis grin against my chest.

Teeth clamped.

My body seized.

My back arched.

His hand slid beneath the rubbery band of my briefs and gripped.

“Fuck, your hands are like fucking ice!”

His chuckle reverberated in my chest, as his hand, not caring what I thought of its temperature, squeezed, then stroked.

“Fuck, Thomas . . .”

“Oh, that’s the plan,” he looked up and whispered, the sinister glint in his eye making my heart skip a few beats. “Someone’s leaking.”

He held up a finger, then shoved it into his mouth, groaning like he’d just taken his first bite of a perfectly cooked meal.

“Would you stop playing with your food and get naked already?”

His smile was the heat of a thousand suns.

“I thought you’d never ask,” he said. Scooting down, he gripped my briefs and tugged them free. Then he pushed off the end of the bed and slipped out of his own, taking his boxers with them.

His cock flicked into his stomach as he freed it from his underwear.

Slickness glistened in the lamplight.

“I’m not the only one leaking.” I grinned.

Fully disrobed, Thomas lowered himself atop me again, spreading my legs, then resting them on his shoulders. His cock brushed against my cheeks, teasing me in the most evil, seductive way.

“We have to be quiet. Think you can manage that?”

I nodded, but my breath caught as his head teased my hole.

He hefted himself up on his knees just enough to rut back and forth, our cocks slipping and sliding, the friction increasing with every motion. I don’t think I’ve ever been so hard—or felt my cock pulse so much. Every touch sent another wave through me, another hint of the pleasure to come.

“Skip the pleasantries,” I urged. “I need you inside me.”

His grin turned feral as he held my gaze and ground against me a few more times.

I’d been so focused on the statue that I hadn’t seen him position a small jar on the nightstand. With his lips firmly locked onto mine, he stretched a hand out and scooped a healthy handful of jelly and slathered it across my hole.

“Shit, that’s cold, too.”

Ignoring me, a finger slipped inside.

I squirmed. “Oh, shit.”

He wiggled his finger, opening me up, then added a second.

“Oh, holy fucking shit, Thomas.” Words became a challenge as stars filled my eyes.