Page 27 of Room to Spare (The Fixer Upper #2)
Keaton pulled off with a wet pop, his eyes dark and hungry. “Turn over,” he commanded, his voice a low growl that sent a shiver down Jules’s spine.
Jules didn’t have time to think. They flipped onto their stomach, legs shaking with anticipation. Keaton kissed down their spine, his hands gentle as he parted Jules’s thighs and spread them open, exposing them completely.
Keaton’s fingers traced the curve of Jules’s ass, then dipped between, teasing the sensitive skin. Jules felt the first swipe of Keaton’s tongue and nearly came on the spot, the sensation so intense it was almost painful.
“Holy shit,” Jules gasped, fists clenching the sheets as they tried to ground themselves in the moment.
“Love how sensitive you are,” Keaton murmured, his tongue delving deeper, a low rumble in his voice that resonated through Jules’s body, igniting every nerve ending. “Could spend all night eating your ass.”
Jules moaned, loud and unrestrained. The sensation was overwhelming, Keaton’s tongue exploring every sensitive crevice, leaving Jules shuddering and desperate.
“Fuck, yeah—please,” they begged, their voice ragged and broken with desire.
Keaton didn’t stop. He rimmed them with a hunger that left Jules shaking, their hole slick and open, begging for more.
Each lick, each gentle probe, sent waves of pleasure coursing through Jules’s body, their cock leaking precum onto the sheets.
When Keaton finally pulled back, Jules turned their head, voice wrecked with desire as they cried out.
Keaton reached over to the nightstand, pulling out a bottle of lube. The click of the cap opening echoed in the quiet room, heightening the anticipation. He drizzled the cool liquid onto his fingers, warming it slightly before returning to Jules.
“Gonna make you feel so good,” Keaton whispered, his voice a low growl as he gently circled Jules’s entrance with a slick finger. Jules gasped, their body tensing briefly before melting into the sensation. Keaton’s finger was gentle yet firm, slowly pressing in, stretching them open.
Jules let out a shuddering breath, their forehead pressing harder into the pillow as Keaton’s finger slid deeper.
They spread their legs wider and lifted their ass, silently pleading for more.
The stretch was intense when Keaton added a second finger, a mix of pleasure and a burn that made their toes curl.
Keaton moved slowly, his fingers scissoring, preparing Jules for more.
“Fuck, you’re so tight,” Keaton murmured, his voice rough with desire. “Love how you feel around my fingers. Imagine how good it’s gonna be with my cock.”
It felt like things were going from zero to one hundred in mere seconds.
Jules definitely wanted that thick cock stretching them, but a flicker of doubt flashed through their mind, worried Keaton was doing this because he thought it was what Jules wanted.
They were just about to tell Keaton they didn’t need to rush things when their hole was stretched impossibly wide, cutting off their ability to think.
Jules whimpered, their body trembling as Keaton’s fingers pushed deeper, hitting a spot that sent a jolt of pleasure through them.
They were so turned on that there was a wet spot on the sheets beneath them.
The room filled with the sounds of their ragged breaths and the wet, slick noises of Keaton’s fingers moving in and out as he drizzled more lube against Jules’s opening.
“More,” Jules gasped, their voice barely a whisper. “Please, Keaton.”
Keaton added another finger, stretching Jules wider, the burn intensifying as the pleasure overrode it.
“You’re doing so good, sweetheart,” Keaton said, his voice gentle yet filled with heat.
Jules’s body shook, every muscle drawn tight as Keaton’s fingers pressed in, stretching them impossibly wide.
Four thick fingers filled them, the slick glide of lube not entirely enough to distract from the raw, overwhelming stretch.
For a split second, panic prickled at the edges of Jules’s thoughts—was Keaton going to try for his whole fist?
They weren’t ready for that. They’d never thought it would be something they wanted, but if it was something Keaton was interested in, they’d trust him.
But Keaton didn’t push further, just held them open, fingers moving in slow, relentless circles that left Jules fighting for breath.
Every push sent a shockwave of sensation through Jules’s body, their cock leaking against the sheets, the ache at their rim skirting the line between too much and not enough.
The air between them pulsed with heat, thick with need and the fragile, aching trust that came from letting someone see them like this—wide open, desperate, vulnerable.
Jules pressed their cheek into the pillow, gasping as Keaton twisted his hand, fingertips dragging against the tight ring of muscle.
Their thighs quaked, sweat slicking their skin as they fought to hold themselves together.
The pressure built, sharp and sweet, every nerve ending burning with anticipation, their body trembling on the knife’s edge between surrender and overload.
Keaton leaned in, his chest warm against Jules’s back, lips brushing the shell of Jules’s ear. His voice was a low, steady anchor in the rising tide of sensation. “You’re doing so good for me,” he murmured, fingers never faltering. “Let me see you. Let me take care of you, just like this.”
Jules’s hands fisted the sheets, their whole body arching, desperate for more, for all of it. The pleasure built and built, cresting so high it almost hurt. They turned their face toward Keaton, needing something—reassurance, permission, anything to keep them from shattering apart.
Keaton’s breath ghosted over their cheek, his voice dropping to a whisper meant only for Jules. “I’ve got you. I want all of you, Jules. Every bit.”
The words hit Jules harder than they were ready for—sweeter and sharper than any touch. The last of their walls crumbled, leaving them raw and open, right on the edge of everything they’d been afraid to ask for.
And then Keaton’s mouth was at their ear, voice rough with something that sounded like wonder. “You’re not too much. You’re exactly enough. You’re perfect, and I’m so fucking sorry I didn’t get my head out of my ass sooner.”
The words hit harder than anything Keaton could do with his hands or mouth. Jules broke, sobbing through their orgasm, their whole body shaking as they came hard in Keaton’s hand as he claimed Jules’s mouth with a kiss that felt like a promise.
Keaton kept going, working Jules through every aftershock, gentle and unrelenting, swallowing everything Jules gave him with a tenderness that undid them all over again.
When it was over, Keaton rolled Jules onto their side and curled up behind him. Keaton pressed soft kisses along Jules’s shoulder, the curve of their neck, the back of their head, holding them close as if he never wanted to let go.
Jules turned their face toward him, eyes heavy. “You meant that?”
Keaton nodded, wrapping his arms around them from behind. “Every word.”
Jules closed their eyes.
And for the first time in a long time, they believed it.