Chapter 11
Chapter eleven
August
Irolled up in front of Drake’s house, a pale colonial with a dark roof.
It cut a pretty figure on the street, even this late at night.
My pulse thrummed, and not from the excellent show I’d just seen.
Ethan had been talking about his band for a while now, and I’d always meant to get out to see them.
Just so happened I got to on this not-date.
And of course Drake was ridiculously hot, kissed me until I was delirious, and exuded this competency and spark of danger that I was addicted to.
Not a great recipe for casual hookup.
But I couldn’t ask for more when I’d started looking at rentals in Florida. Which felt wrong, but what could I do? Say no to my folks? They’d looked so sad.
I pressed my forehead to the steering wheel and sucked in a deep breath to compose myself. Then I left the car, locked it, and headed down the front pathway to Drake’s front door.
I’d barely lifted my knuckles to knock when the door swung open.
I’d just seen him back at the music hall, but the sight of him knocked the breath from my lungs.
His dark hair was swept to the side, and his jeans clung to those muscled thighs like SecondSkin.
The fantasies of him fucking me, of him staying inside me through the night, had roared to life and refused to leave.
Fuck, part of me was dying to let him in bare, even though we’d need to talk beforehand.
“Come on in,” he said, turning on his heel and heading farther into his place.
I followed, bringing the door shut behind me.
The walls weren’t decorated with much, all eggshell white like he’d never painted after moving in.
Honestly, it surprised me. With how full of life he was, how much he lived, I expected his place to explode with color.
The bare walls made my fingers itch, made me want to paint.
“Going to offer me a drink or your cock?” I asked as we wandered past the foyer and by the stairs.
Drake let out a bark of a laugh. “Depends on what you’d prefer to drink.”
“Your cum, clearly,” I responded, warmth rousing in my chest. The way his eyes scorched as he scanned me over left me a little breathless. I didn’t know why I’d bothered with clothes if he was going to eye-fuck me that hard.
“I’ve been fantasizing about this ass,” he said, taking another step toward me until there were mere inches between us. He reached around and grabbed my ass hard. My cock woke to life at once.
“Oh yeah?” I asked, arching a brow. “What do you want to do to it?”
He kept his firm grip on my ass as he stared down at me, mere inches between our bodies, the tension excruciating. “I want to bend you over and pry your cheeks open, then rim you until you’re in tears. Then I want to sink inside you and fuck you until you forget your name.”
“Ngh, yes,” I moaned, the images flashing through me fast and furious.
“And then I want to stay inside that pretty little hole for as long as possible, teasing and toying with your cock while you wait to come,” he said, his voice pure velvet and gravel.
Flames roared through me. It was like he’d plucked straight into my head and pulled out the secret desires I harbored. “Do you need me to beg? Because I’ll fucking beg.”
“No need, baby,” he murmured as he let go of the grip on my ass. His palm slid against mine, and he gave my hand a tug. “Follow me.”
He led me up the staircase, and I couldn’t help but fixate on the cocky saunter, his muscular ass on full display in those Levis.
I chewed on my lower lip until I tasted blood.
Damn, he was five-alarm hot, and I still couldn’t believe we were hooking up.
Even though he seemed like the cool guy, the bad boy, never once had he made me feel dumb or too much for the excessive amounts I texted him and the random questions that popped into my head.
And after having his thick, heavy cock in my mouth the other night, I’d been dying to get him inside me.
“Bedroom’s here,” he said as he guided us to the left and in through the open door. The hallway was equally undecorated, which struck me as odd.
“Spartan lifestyle?” I asked, giving a glance to the walls.
“More like terrible taste and no drive. Maybe if it wasn’t just me here…” he trailed off and shook his head, like he was clearing an Etch-A-Sketch. “Come on. Going to decorate my house or get in my bed?”
“The latter,” I said, rushing past him in the room. I didn’t hesitate, just leapt for his bed, arms out like I was a flying squirrel or some shit. I landed face-first into the mattress with a whumph.
The lights flickered on, and I flipped over onto my back. Drake stood by the doorframe, his arms crossed, which only placed his veiny forearms on display. His eyes twinkled with amusement.
“You’re a little overdressed for bed,” he said, his voice husky.
The tension in the room heightened, and the air thickened between us.
“Oh, no-clothes policy?” I teased, playing with the button of my jeans.
“I need you stripped down and on my sheets.” Drake prowled over until he stood before me. The sight of him looming over got me hotter, my cock rigid. Damn, he was a fantasy come to life.
“Don’t know,” I said, stretching to fold my hands behind my head. “I’m pretty comfortable.”
He shook his head, a grin rising to his lips and a feral look in his eyes. Goddamn. I’d been with partners who were fire in the sheets, but no one had looked at me with singular focus, the sort of intensity that burnt down buildings.
Drake reached for the hem of my shirt and forced it up, exposing my abs.
He traced his fingertips along the surface, and the touch ignited all the desire that bubbled inside me.
When he gave the tug, I pushed up and helped him yank my shirt up and over my head, my arms. Then he snapped the button on my jeans, and I shrugged those down too, bringing my boxer briefs along with them.
I kicked off my shoes and then extricated myself from my pants the rest of the way before peeling my socks off.
All too fast, I was stripped down on Drake’s bed, exposed to him entirely.
Anticipation thudded through me as he prowled onto the bed, bracketing me with his body, his palms pressing into the mattress on either side of me.
Mere inches separated us, and I ached to close it.
Except the tension that spread between us held a powder keg note, as if at any moment we’d detonate.
My cock strained, pre-cum pooling at the tip.
Drake planked overtop me, his hot breath puffing against my face.
“I’m going to taste every inch of you,” he said, the heat in his tone drifting over me like a caress. “Going to map your body with my teeth, my tongue, my mouth.”
“Yes, please,” I gasped, far breathier than intended.
His dark eyes were magnetic, a wildness to them, to the arch of his brows that held me enraptured.
God, I needed him inside me. Instead, Drake leaned in and pressed a kiss along the side of my neck.
He nipped at the corded muscle there, and a shiver raced through me.
He then lowered to lick along my collarbones, savoring each motion rather than rushing.
I’d never had a partner take me apart like this, deliver such attention to detail.
I’d never felt so exposed, so seen.
I fucking adored it.
Drake continued lower, and the tip of his tongue circled my nipple. A moan escaped me—I was a slut for nipple play—and he took one bud into his mouth and sucked.
“Oh fuck!” My hips lifted off the bed, my stiff cock brushing against his stomach.
He moved to the other one to suck that into his mouth too, and I fisted the sheets on either side of me.
Drake seemed to realize what a spot it was for me, because he launched into a relentless attack with sucks and nips.
Moans poured out of me, and my cock leaked like a faucet.
“God, the sounds you make are gorgeous,” Drake said, reaching between us to brush his thumb over the tip of my cock. “And you’re making such a sticky mess of yourself.”
Heat rushed through my body, fast and fierce. His mouth was filthy, and I fucking loved it.
Drake dragged his tongue down my stomach, the movement slow and sinuous. My breaths came out choppy, sweat beading on my forehead. Fuck, I was burning up from the inside out.
“Fuck me,” I begged.
Drake looked up, and the wicked arch of his eyebrow said everything. “I’m not done with you yet, baby.”
The endearment caused more warmth to bloom inside me. The possessive way he said it and the intensity in his gaze made me hope a little too hard that I wasn’t just a hookup for him. But tonight I’d simply enjoy whatever he had in store for me.
Drake nipped down my hipbones, my cock straining, begging for attention. The head was almost purple it was so needy. As much as I wanted to reach down and give it a stroke, it felt even better surrendering to him. Letting him take control.
“You’re so good for me,” he murmured, pressing kisses along my hips. “So pliant, so sweet.”
A shameful whimper escaped my lips, and my whole body flushed.
“Pretty boy likes some praise?” he asked before pressing another kiss, right on a sensitive spot. My hips bucked up again.
“Yes,” I gasped out, clutching the sheets harder to keep from reaching for myself. “Oh god, yes.”
“Well, you keep being so, so good, and I’ll have plenty for you,” he said. His breath puffed against my cock, and I groaned. My balls throbbed, the need to unload excruciating. I needed him to touch, to lick, fuck, anything.
Instead, Drake situated himself between my legs, spread them wide, and brushed his thumb across my hole.
“Fuuuck,” I moaned.
“Mmm, see?” he teased. “So good. And this pretty hole is begging for attention.”