Chapter 39
Chapter thirty-nine
Tom
“Come on,” I mutter, poking at the AC remote. Great, nothing happens. Meanwhile, there’s a Greek statue waiting for me on the bed.
Yosh is flat on his stomach, legs swinging in the air like he’s watching the clouds. Except we’re inside, and he’s only wearing socks.
Socks!
I don’t know what kind of spell those things have over me, but it’s easily the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.
I need this AC to work. I’ve been boiling ever since I told him how I feel. And yes, it felt damn good to get that off my chest.
What felt even better? The way he kissed me after. Like that kiss was his answer.
And if I’m right—and I think I am—that means your boy is in a relationship.
For once, I hadn’t sabotaged or talked myself out of it. It’s the first time I’ve run toward commitment instead of away from it. I’m sure we can call that progress with the best outcome possible.
“You need a hand with that?”
“Nah, I’ve got it. I just—” I cut myself off, stabbing buttons like an idiot.
Yosh crawls off the bed and plants himself behind me. His hands land on my shoulders, kneading my muscles.
“Hey, relax. You’re all tense.”
He takes the remote from my hand, clicking the AC on with a single press. Of course, the thing kicks in.
“See? Easy,” he grins. “Now come back to bed.”
That makes me turn around.
Yosh has his eyes fixed on me, daring me forward. As I step closer, he retreats until the back of his legs hit the mattress.
“You’re still wearing too much,” he says.
“So are you.”
He glances down at his socks, reaching for them. I catch his wrist.
“Leave them on. They make you look slutty.”
A flash of eye contact. His fingers glide under my shirt, helping me take it off.
“Come here,” he says, voice warm and flirty, tugging me closer by the chain around my neck.
“How bad do you want me, huh?” I shove him back on the bed, crawl onto his lap, crushing my mouth to his in a greedy kiss. His hands skim my stomach, sliding over my hips, dragging up my sides. He can’t decide where to grab me first. He wants it all too fast, too badly.
“Are you loyal?” He moans the question against my lips.
I roll my hips, grinding against his cock, short bursts of pressure and release making us both gasp. He chases my mouth, we crash into a violent kiss.
“I’m loyal to you, love. I’m fucking yours.”
I slam him flat onto the mattress. Then I dip down and devour his mouth, showing him exactly what I am.
His. All the way.
“God, you always taste like trouble, Sapphire.”
“You knew exactly what I was the second I walked in your life. And you still want me.”
“How could I not?”
Like a horny kitty he rolls onto his stomach, hips tilting back, aching and begging
I kneel between his legs, letting my eyes follow the shape of his body.
Every muscle looks built to be touched by me, every line dares me to follow it with my hands.
I’ve never wanted a man like this before, and it’s wrecking me.
I want him so fucking bad. Just watching him increases my saliva production.
A twitch. Right there in his left foot. He’s getting restless.
“Getting impatient? It’s just you and me, baby. We’ve got all night.”
I kiss the dimple in his spine, provoking a reaction in his chest. All that meditation, but he can’t control his lungs when he likes something.
He pretends to be relaxed, I know better. I count rhythm for a living, so I can hear each irregularity. Even the smallest changes.
My lips kiss their way down his spine, slowing the closer I get to his tailbone.
Two fingers trail up the inside of his thigh, cruel and merciless. I feel pressure building inside me, the sweet ache of tension swelling to its boiling point.
I lower myself, giving one slow lick over his entrance. He groans and I do it again, torturing slowly this time, letting my tongue circle the tense, soft, ridges, not quite pushing in.
His hips roll back, trying to make me.
“Behave,” I warn, clawing my fingers into his skin.
His laugh turns into a moan the moment I press the tip of my tongue inside.
He gasps. I go deeper, flick once, pull out completely. Stop.
“You keep doing that, and I’m not making it out of this in one piece.”
“Then tell me how to ruin you properly,” I whisper.
He grabs the lube from the nightstand, handing it to me.
“Sapphire. I need more than that. I need to feel you now.”
Those words feels like a gift on Christmas morning.
I open the bottle, slicking my fingers before running them slowly along the seam of his ass, teasing the touch. He tenses, then melts back into me.
I take my time, making sure he’s ready before pressing the first finger in. His hole clenches tight around me, then yields. With another push I’m buried to the knuckle in heat.
He gives me a needy moan that makes my breath hitch for a second. I keep kissing the skin along his neck and shoulder, soft kisses turning into hungry bites I just can’t hold back.
A second finger slides inside, stretching him, twisting and prying him open.
His head tips back against my cheek. I bury my nose in his hair, smelling always so fucking herbal and sweet.
“Feels good?”
“Fuck, baby…”
I open him slowly, feeling the way his body stops fighting and starts asking. I twist my wrist, testing. He grinds down, chasing the pressure. He guides me, I curl just enough. He breaks with a sharp cry, the kind of sound that tells me I’ve found exactly what I was looking for.
All I can think is how much of a turn-on it is, knowing he’s giving me that power, trusting me when he’s giving himself over, completely. It makes me want to push further.
I slick my other hand, closing it around his length.
“Want me to show you a little trick, love?”
“You’re full of tricks, McKenna.”
I grin against his skin. “This one’s worth it. I promise.”
I keep my fingers slow and deep inside, pressing in at that angle that makes him lose his breath. My other hand works his cock.
“Fuck, Tom… What the hell… fuck.”
I keep it uneven on purpose. Two slow beats inside. Four fast strokes with my fist. His hips can’t decide where to chase the pressure.
He’s trapped between both, and watching him squirm like that might be my favourite thing on earth.
When he tries to say my name and can’t even manage the one clean syllable, I know he’s right on the edge.
I pull out just enough to make him swear, keeping him in a loose fist so he doesn’t tip over.
“Fuck, Sapphire, you’re ambidextrous… I’ve… I’ve won the fucking lottery.”
“The fucking lottery, you mean.”
A little content sound vibrates against my skin.
“I need you to take me now, because I swear, I’ll go fucking feral.”
I smile. “Bold words for someone already hanging by a thread.”
“McKenna, I swear to—”
“Alright, baby. Show me how feral you can really get on my cock.”
Yosh reaches for the nightstand, tears a condom open with his teeth, and the sight alone has me struggling to keep it together. He rolls it down my cock with steady fingers—slow enough to make it filthy, controlled enough to make me lose my fucking mind.
For a moment, we hold eye contact. I need to read him before I move. He smiles, soft and beautiful, settling himself, making himself comfortable for me.
I steady his hips, line up, the head of my cock pressing blunt against him.
The serpent down his back stretches as he moves. I catch a tiny arrow at the tip of its tail pointing south. Instructions are usually not for me, but this one I’ll happily follow.
I push in slowly, the stretch drawing a sharp breath from both of us as we groan in unison.
Bloody hell. I grit my teeth, his body clamping down around me so tight I have to breathe through it.
His fingers twist in the sheets, knees spreading wider without me even asking.
I start slow, wanting him to feel every inch of me filling him. The sounds he makes are addictive, the kind that make it impossible to slow down even when I know I should.
“Love, you feel so tight. So fucking warm around me.”
A desperate whimper follows. “Yes, baby. Just like that.”
That’s all I need.
I gradually pick up the pace, the wet slap of skin against skin and his pleading cries filling the room.
His body meets me halfway, pushing back, greedy for more, taking me so well the heat of it makes me dizzy.
I don’t know what to call this. I’m barely moving, and he rides me without restraint, like bottoming could pass as an Olympic event.
“Fuck, Yosh… fuck. fuck. fuck.”
“Harder. I can take it. I need more.”
So I’ve heard.
I dive in deeper, starting to rail him like a rabbit in spring. My fingers claw into his skin, hauling him back to meet me, over and over again.
“You’re taking me so well like this.” Sweat drips off my face, “I’m going to make you so fucking sore for days, sugarplum.”
“The fuck you just called me!?” His hands clutch the sheets. Then he clamps down so tight it makes me swear. He’s asking for it now.
I keep one hand locked on his shoulder and slide the other over his stomach.
My fingers find his cock, and I start stroking in sync with the way I’m fucking him.
Every thrust drives him forward into my fist, every pull drags him back onto my cock.
Then I switch rhythm to something more complicated. Just for the effect. Just to show off.
He’s panting, swearing, pushing back into me like he hates me.
I think I’m actually really damn good at this.
“Fuck—”
Another punishing thrust nearly slams him into the wall.
“You want to come, love?”
“Fuck… yes. Please…”
A low breath leaves me, almost a laugh. “Needy tonight, aren’t you?”
That's all it takes. His whole body goes tight in my arms, a broken sound tearing out of him as he loses himself in my grip. Cheek melting against mine. I kiss him there as he pulls me straight over the edge with him.
One last slam. One last grind against that perfect ass.
I fucking lose it, riding it out in heavy waves. Still coming as I bend down to rest against the damp hollow of his neck.