Starting From Here (Starting from 3) - Page 37

I snorted. “I don’t want you to be nice to me, asshole. Fuck me like you mean it.”

“Not sure you can handle that,” he taunted, inching deeper still.

I licked my lips when he bottomed out, then wrapped my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist. “Try me.”

Tegan pulled all the way out before pushing inside me again…slowly. He repeated the tortuous maneuver a few times. He didn’t kiss me or say a word for a moment or two. He just took his time. And I appreciated it. I hadn’t been on the receiving end in a while. Years, actually. But the second the pain receded and pleasure took over, I remembered how fucking amazing this could feel with the right partner.

Don’t get me wrong…Tegan was the wrong partner for sure, but he knew what he was doing.

He picked up speed and added a wanton sway to his hips that made his cock hit my prostate on every pass. I clawed his back and grunted his name.

“You want more?”

“Fuck, yes. Harder,” I growled, lifting my hips to meet him thrust for thrust.

“Beg me.”

“No way,” I huffed, pushing his chest hard enough to throw off his stride. I used the momentum to roll on top of him, flattening my palms over his pecs, and riding him like a mechanical bull in a honky-tonk bar.

My cock slapped against Tegan’s lower abdomen, painting a trail of precum as I fucked myself on his thick pole…up and down, up and down. He ran his fingers along my thighs, grabbed my ass and took over, pumping his hips in time to the rhythm I’d set. Only faster. I braced my hands on either side of his head and sealed my mouth over his in a wicked kiss.

Okay, maybe I bit him. I didn’t mean to. It was a heat of the moment thing. I was literally hot all over and completely consumed. Tegan didn’t give me a chance to apologize. Not that I was sorry, but still…he smacked my ass hard enough to leave a handprint, then rolled on top of me again and let me have it. He gripped my shoulders and let his hips fly, pistoning at a breakneck speed like he was in a race for the finish line. I reached for my dick, but he beat me to it.

“Mine.”

I liked the sound of that. And I shouldn’t. I wasn’t his, he wasn’t mine. This was madness. Same as it always was.

That was my final thought ’cause two pumps of his fist and a last-second burst of dirty talk of the “Your ass is mine” variety and I was done. I arched into his fist, shooting cum over his fingers and onto my stomach. I clutched at Tegan’s biceps, pulled him close, and slammed my mouth over his. He fell apart with a roar a moment later. I swore I felt it deep in my body, as though a piece of him were part of me now.

I gasped for air when he collapsed on top of me, but I didn’t push him away. I liked the feel of him covering me like a blanket. Safe and cozy and warm. Besides, I wasn’t ready to deal with the aftermath. This could get ugly fast.

Tegan gently disengaged and stood over me, eyeing me cautiously as he removed the spent condom from his junk. I sat up when he headed for the bathroom, pausing to admire the view before gingerly standing. No doubt I’d have a serious case of rug burn and a sore ass in the morning, but damn, it was worth it.

I felt like I’d won a secret lottery. Maybe the ice had finally fucking thawed. But I couldn’t be sure about that, so I had to play it cool and follow his lead. The problem was that Tegan never showed his hand in the first round. Or the second. He was methodical and deliberate. In other words, my exact opposite.

“Here.” He tossed a towel at me, then reached for his discarded jeans. “Bathroom’s that way if you want to…you know.”

“Freshen up?”

I wiped the mess of sweat and cum from my chest, dropping the towel on the floor as I collected my thoughts.

“Yeah.” Tegan cleared his throat and scratched his neck, looking everywhere but at me.

I moved down the hall to use his bathroom. His place was small and tired-looking, but at least it was clean. The navy towels were folded neatly, and the mirrors weren’t streaked with toothpaste gunk. I was mildly curious about the contents of his medicine cabinet…’cause I’m nosy like that, but I didn’t linger. My window of opportunity was closing. I washed my hands quickly and hurried to the entry to gather my clothes.

I snapped the elastic band on my boxer briefs and bent to grab my jeans just as Tegan appeared, pulling a black T-shirt over his head.

Tags: Lane Hayes Starting from Romance
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