Chapter Twenty-Seven
Skylar Parish
It’s late evening by the time we return to my apartment. Breakfast wasn’t enough for our friends, and Henry had the grand idea of going ice skating at the hockey rink and then seeing Christmas lights once the sun set.
It is December, after all, and Christmas is right after graduation.
So, after watching Everett bruise his knees and Kelly face-plant at least twice, we saw some pretty lights draped in palm trees before finally heading home.
And as much as I’ve enjoyed our day out, grateful to have such loving friends, I’ve been waiting all day for this. Everett was right; I am aching for it.
We’re two steps into the apartment, the door barely latched, as I jump him. His back hits the wall, my hands in his hair as my mouth collides with his.
He groans, allowing my tongue to massage his, the wet warmth of him spurring me on.
His hands slide over my ass to the back of my thighs, hoisting me up the way he used to when he’d give me piggyback rides after volley games.
Only this time, I’m latched to his front, sucking his tongue into my mouth.
Everett detaches from my mouth, panting as he grits out, “Fuck, Sky. I’m gonna rail you so hard.”
I unhook an arm from around his shoulders, shoving it between us to feel the pulsing length of him. “Fucking do it.”
He heads toward the room, attacking my neck as he carries me. Jolts of pleasure shoot from the skin he’s assaulting, traveling down my spine and making my legs weak. I would have already fallen off if it weren’t for Everett keeping such a tight hold under my ass.
He shoves the door open, crossing the room to the bed before tossing me onto it, towering over me with a hungry expression.
I love horny Everett. He’s so fucking beautiful.
“Take your clothes off, little snake,” he commands, and in the time it takes for me to be completely naked before him, he’s grabbed a bottle of lube and ripped off his own clothes.
I also love that we’re so prepared now. Sex with lotion compared to sex with lube? Fuck.
“Come on, Evie. Fuck me.” I’m smirking at him, lifting my hips in his direction.
His eyes are locked onto my erection, his lips parted as he takes me in. “Stretch yourself first.”
“What?”
I’ve never touched myself down there. I don’t even know how to start. Do I just slide a finger in? Where is my prostate? What if my fingers aren’t long enough?
“Come on, Sky,” Everett coaxes, climbing onto the bed and bending my knees up. “I’ll guide you. Give me your hand.”
He pours a generous amount of lube over the tips of my fingers, rubbing a palm against the inner skin of my leg as he does it. The cool liquid makes me shudder, and Everett grins.
“There you go,” he continues. “Now take one finger and slowly slip it in.”
It burns, but not nearly as badly as Everett’s does. His fingers are not only longer but thicker than mine. And the inside of me? It’s hot. Far hotter than I ever would have thought or deemed healthy.
“It’s too… Fuck, is it supposed to be this hot inside?” I mutter.
Everett moans quietly as he watches my finger disappear within. “God, that’s so sexy. Are you wet inside? Is it so warm, baby?”
I nod, my body heating up under his gaze and his tone. He’s loving this. The sight of me spread out, readying myself for him, must be getting to his libido in a way I will never understand.
Once my finger is completely seated, I begin to drag it back out, just as he does. It feels… alright. There are no jolts of electricity or any fire in my veins, but I’m certain those normally come from his touch rather than the motion itself.
At his prompting, I add another, hissing through the sting of the pain as I go. I’m full, my wrist bent awkwardly and my chest heaving.
I prefer it when he does this part. Does that make me a pillow princess? Can a guy be a pillow princess?
“Everett,” I nearly whine, working through the ache in my wrist, “this doesn’t feel as good. I like it when you do it.”
“Take a finger out,” he commands, the words leaving him in a rush as he scoots even closer. I pull out my middle finger, easing some of the strain on my wrist. “Good. Now let me in.”
Everett presses a newly lubed finger to my entrance before sliding it in alongside mine. And there we go.
I groan, arching into the feeling as he slides deeper and deeper. “Yes.”
“Shit, Sky. Feel good?” Everett breathes, and I can only cry out as his finger bottoms out. “You need me so bad, huh? You’re squeezing me so fucking hard.”
“More,” I demand, my heart thumping loudly as the feel of him finally inside of me takes over.
“So greedy. And you’re so wet already.” His unoccupied hand lifts to grip my cock, running his thumb over a trailing bead of arousal.
“Evie!”
“Hngh, shit. I know, baby.”
Another finger joins the two already filling me up, and a soft cry leaves me as his digits press into mine, pulling out and plunging back in.
“Do you know where it is?” Everett asks me, lowering himself onto his stomach to get a closer look. “Do you know where that sweet little spot inside of you sits?”
“N-no.”
“Let me show you.” Everett’s eyes are wide and glossy, his hot exhales landing against my hole in an intoxicating assault. “Push in as far as possible. That’s it—now hook your finger right…here.”
My entire body tenses, lighting up from the inside out as pleasure takes hold of my nerves and rocks me. I’m trembling, locked up, barely breathing through the feeling as he rubs and rubs.
I can feel it—the small little nub buried so deep inside.
“Good fucking boy,” Everett groans, his motions becoming rougher by the second. “You’re doing so well.”
“Everett, I… Put your cock in me.”
But he does not respond. Everett lowers his head, and a moment later, something hot and wet begins to massage at where our fingers disappear before slipping in alongside them.
His tongue is in my ass. Everett’s fucking tongue is in my ass!!
I clench instinctively, nearly sobbing as I shout, “Stop! Stop it right now, or I’ll come.” The motion continues, and right as I feel myself about to tip over the edge embarrassingly fast, I shove a palm against the top of his head and push. “I said stop it!”
It was too much, too fast. The pressure against my prostate, the hot slip of his tongue—both were barreling me straight toward an overwhelming finish. I’m convinced that I would have squirted again, and it was demeaning enough last time.
Everett is panting, a trail of spit hanging from his bottom lip as he glares down at me. “Fucking dick. I was enjoying that.”
It’s only as I go to speak that I realize there are tears dripping onto my lips. “B-but it was too much. I’m not ready to come.”
A high-pitched squeak leaves him, and he pushes himself between my legs, our cocks lining up between us.
“I love it so much when you cry for me,” he purrs, his lips mouthing at my nipple between each sentence. “You’re so pretty like this, wet all over. Can I put it in now? Please?”
Ah fuck. That’s so hot.
“Yeah,” I tell him. “Put it in me. Raw.”
It takes him a single second to line his fat head up with my entrance, and two more to slam all the way home. He is suddenly buried so deep inside of me that I’m convinced I can feel him all the way up to my chest.
“Fuck!” I shout, my legs lifting to lock around his hips.
Everett does not let me adjust to the feel of him; he pulls almost completely out before thrusting over and over again, his fingers interlocked over the crown of my head.
“Yes, yes, yes,” he’s chanting, his hips snapping hard and fast as his sweat drips from his forehead onto my chin. “Take it, puppy. Take my cock and cry for me.”
The hair at my temples is soaked, my own breath leaving me in choked exhales that have me nearly hyperventilating. The pleasure is so intense, so deep inside of me, that I cannot think.
I intended to be a brat tonight, but he’s taking that ability away from me one shove of his hips at a time.
“Please,” I plead, pushing down to meet every one of his thrusts. “Make me come. I want to come so badly.”
“Let me hear it,” he grits out. “Let me hear you beg.”
What a fucking asshole.
“Evie, please,” I cry out. “Please give it to me. Touch it—touch that spot. Fuck into it. I want to feel you there.”
“Oh, I’m gonna come,” he gasps out. “Shit, stop talking. I’m gonna come.”
“No,” I snap. “Make me come.”
“Fuck!” Everett jolts back, pulling out from inside of me so quickly that the loss of it has me tensing. “Just… oh, god.”
He’s staring down at his own length where it pulses, his fingers wrapped tightly around the base to fight off his release.
‘Everett—”
“Stop talking!” he roars, his brow pinched. “Your voice is so good, it’s gonna—I might blow.”
“Like fucking hell you will,” I hiss, leaning up and taking hold of one of his nipples, twisting it hard.
And Everett comes. His cock erupts, a startled, choked-off scream leaving his throat as his hot release coats my inner thighs.
The pain was supposed to bring him down, not send him tumbling over the edge.
“Oh, fuck. Oh, shit. I’m sorry, baby. I—yes, fuck, that feels so good,” he rambles, sitting back on his heels as his body shakes and his muscles tense.
And yeah, I’m irritated that he came before getting me off, but he also looks so delicious at this moment that I can’t help myself. I bend down and take the head of his dick into my mouth, drinking the last of his release.
A loud moan pierces the room, his hands snapping up to grip the sides of my face before thrusting forward until his cockhead is buried deep in my throat and the small, soft patch of his pubic hair is pressed to my nose.
“Please, Sky, fuck! Suck it for me. Su—just like that. Holy shit!” Everett slumps over me, his stomach curving around the shape of my head and his softening length falling from my mouth as I gasp and cough.
For a solid ten seconds, I couldn’t breathe at all.
“Jesus,” I stammer, lifting him off me enough to stop bending nearly in half.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he blurts. “I couldn’t hold it. You felt so good, and your voice is so sweet that I can’t handle it.”