Perfect Score (Easton U Pirates 3)

When my saliva slid into his hole, Morgan moaned as if it was the sexiest thing in the world, and I supposed it was. Just me and him—raw, natural, and pure.

I clenched my teeth, my thighs shaking as I slowly entered him because fucking hell, it was so perfect. “God, Morgan, I didn’t know it would feel…I don’t think I’ll ever not want to be inside you.”

Morgan’s lips parted on a moan, his eyes screwed shut, and I gripped the underside of his knees to avoid thrusting into him, allowing him to get used to the sensation. I carefully watched as his expression morphed from wonder to bliss as his gaze met mine, and affection coursed through me.

He was tight and smooth and warm as I rocked my hips, and feeling him bare like this was taking every last measure of control.

“It’s so good,” Morgan said, grasping his own cock, which was leaking all over his stomach. “Harder.”

I pumped into him fast and solid as he writhed beneath me. I was skirting along the edge, spots floating before my eyes, but I didn’t want to lose control, not yet. It felt too damned incredible.

I kept up the rhythm, pulling most of the way out, then driving deep inside him, and as I listened to his moans, I could tell his breathing had changed. His eyes were wild and desperate, his skin deeply flushed, and it reminded me of our conversation early on about those moments of suspended pleasure before you finally let go. It felt like a parallel right then to the slow simmer of our friendship eventually catching on fire.

“You close?” I asked, and Morgan nodded. I reached over and gripped his cock, and when I stroked upward, he lost it. He cried out and shuddered through his orgasm, his jizz spurting over my fist and soaking into his groin.

His orgasm rocked my world, his hole throbbing and squeezing my cock, and the moment his adoring gaze met mine, I was a goner, transported to some alternate universe of pleasure. I moaned and stilled, allowing the sensation to pulse through me.

Finally pulling out, I collapsed on top of Morgan, and when his mouth found mine, I kissed him with everything I had left.

“I just made love to my best friend,” I said, winding my arms around him. “And it was everything.”

“It was,” Morgan murmured against my neck. “I love that your come is inside me.”

“Yeah?” My chest felt achy and tight. “You sure you don’t wanna go clean up?”

“Nuh-uh,” he replied around a yawn. “I want to sleep just like this, with you all around me.”

Fuck, I loved him.

As soon as his legs twisted around my own, he promptly fell asleep. I vowed right then and there to always make him feel loved and safe.

Epilogue

Morgan

* * *

It was the final game of the Pirates’ season at Easton U. The days had been growing warmer as summer break teased both students and professors alike, and I wiped my brow and shifted on the metal seat in the stands, feeling pretty hot—and bored, to be honest, because sports were so not my thing. Still, I’d been to enough of Elliot’s games over the years that you’d think I’d understand all the rules by osmosis alone. Except I’d play stuff on my phone unless he was up to bat, then I’d cheer and pretend to be interested.

But Elliot had been excited about supporting the Pirates, and other friends were also in attendance—Jasmine, Maclain and Girard, as well as Donovan and his brother, Ricky, who ended up being pretty entertaining during the longer innings. He, of course, was an avid fan and knew his stats, which he expounded upon when explaining why the Pirates would make it to the playoffs this year, which was good news for the seniors on the team.

He was pretty well versed in tech stuff too, as I’d learned at the bowling alley fundraiser. He’d also followed me on Insta, and I always smiled at his brainy comments regarding disability rep.

I was telling him about my app—the assignment I’d gotten an A+ on, thank you very much—and asked him if he thought it was something he’d want to make use of, assuming my idea came to fruition.

“Definitely,” Ricky replied. “I could always use new friends.”

“That sounds really cool,” Donovan chimed in from the seat behind us, so he must’ve listened in on our conversation. “I think you should go for it.”

“Thanks, I just might,” I replied, my cheeks feeling warm because even though I knew I was onto a good thing, compliments were still hard for me.

Though Elliot was certainly making it easier. He’d always supported me as a friend, but having him as a boyfriend was next-level. He was always telling me how hot or adorable or smart I was before, during, or after sex. He was insatiable, and I apparently didn’t mind at all, even if he made me late to class. Yesterday, when he’d been on his knees in the shower, rimming my ass, I didn’t even complain that I’d get marked tardy, and afterward, when I was on my way out and he pulled me back inside the house to kiss me breathless, I even considered skipping class altogether, which had never happened.