Page 54 of For the Fans

“You’re making it harder…” I squint at him, lips quirking.

“You’re such a fucking queer.” His chest is really heaving now, words coming out all hoarse and uneven.

Inching my face until the tips of our noses are almost touching, I whisper, “But you’re the one jerking my dick off right now.”

His jaw is set tight, ticking visibly. “Not my hand.”

“Might as well be.” I shrug.

Frankie’s legs stiffen as her pussy clenches on our fingers. But we’re too busy arguing to even notice. Kyran lets go of my wrist, and I rest my head on Frankie’s thigh, eyes dropping shut for a moment at the sensation of stroking my cock surrounded by the pulsing heat of all this tension.

I have no idea why this feels so good, but I can’t deny that it does. And when I reopen my eyes, I catch Kyran watching my hand move inside my pants.

“Are you hard?” I whisper, and they spring back up to mine.

“Fuck no,” he hisses.

I peek down at his pants. The material is doing nothing to hide his visible erection. “Liar.”

He covers it with his hand. “Don’t look at my cock, fucking pervert.”

“Why… is it small?” I bite my lip.

“No.” His gaze narrows, and he leans in closer. “It’sbig.”

“Prove it,” I hum, shocking myself with those abrupt words.

What the fuck am I doing??

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

His voice is ragged as he palms himself over his pants, face all flushed, pink in his cheeks, pupils dilated. Our hands are slippery wet from Frankie’s arousal, palms sliding together while we work on her pussy, paying zero attention to her and just fully wrapped up in whatever this charged battle of aggression is that’s incinerating between us. It’s fucking crazy, but my head is all cloudy and I can’t even think.

“You’re so close to me, Kyran…” I speak in frayed breaths. “If I come, it’ll get all over you.”

“If you come on me, I’ll rip your dick off your body,” he growls.

God, something about this sparring is winding me up like a rubber band. I’m burning alive inside my skin, and heat is pouring off his body in waves.

At the feel of weight, my hazy gaze dips, and I find his leg slung over mine.

I don’t even think he notices he’s doing it. But now that I’m paying attention, I catch his hips moving, as if subtly chasing some kind of sensation he’s not getting because he, unlike me, isn’t jerking off.

And some strange, twisted thing in my brain wishes that he was.

I’m so fucked. This is all fucked…

“So youarescared…” I whisper to him, with my lashes fluttering.

He makes a low, rumbling noise, biting down on his lower lip. It thumps my balls in a heavy throb. My hips inch toward his…

But before I can get wherever it is I was trying to go, Frankie whines, then gasps out loud. “Oh my God, holy fuck, I’mcoming!”

Her hand flies down, gripping onto both of our wrists at once, holding us for dear life as he comes all over our joined hands, mumbling, “I’m coming, I’m coming, I’m fuckingcoming…” On repeat.

Kyran’s mouth is so close to mine, it’s like I’m breathing his breaths; inhaling his exhales. I feel his lips shivering. Ifeelhis pulse pumping like it’s my own.

It’s so intense that I think I could literally come myself at any moment.