Chapter 21 #3
Boone is now nearest the wall, a body’s length away, on his back beneath Okee.
The blanket is shoved down around their hips.
In the ember light I can see the long line of Boone’s throat arched, his mouth parted on a silent breath.
Okee is above him, braced on one forearm.
The firelight radiates off his copper-toned skin, tracing the muscular planes of his arms and back.
His long black hair falls forward in a dark curtain, sweeping with each measured roll of his hips, the curve of his sculpted ass flexing.
Oh.
Boone’s legs wrap around Okee’s waist, fingertips digging into his back, then falling away again as if he can’t decide whether to hold on or let go. A broken, relieved moan tears from his throat.
“Okee, please. Fuck me…” Boone begs, hips rolling up to meet every thrust. “God, yes!”
I lie perfectly still on my belly, head resting on my arm, hair strewn across my face. My heart is suddenly loud in my ears. I should close my eyes. I should pretend I’m asleep. Instead my gaze locks on them, helpless to resist.
Okee lifts his head. In the red-brown dark, his gaze finds mine.
“You woke her up,” he says, but his rhythm never falters. His eyes linger on mine for a moment before he lowers his head, mouth finding the side of Boone’s neck, then lower, teeth grazing his collarbone. Boone makes a small, choked sound—half groan, half plea.
The floorboards creak faintly beneath them. The air smells of woodsmoke, sweat, and the sharp, intimate scent of skin and arousal.
My pulse climbs. Heat uncoils low in my belly, uninvited and undeniable.
Boone’s head turns just enough that I catch the flicker of his eyes in the dimness. His gaze is glassy, unfocused, lost in whatever Okee is doing to him.
Between their bodies I catch the shape of Boone’s hard length, bobbing thick and heavy with each thrust.
Okee murmurs something too low for words against Boone’s throat.
A shuddering breath leaves Boone as his fingers tighten again, dragging Okee closer.
“God, yes! Please… Oh, please,” he gasps, his plea whimpered again and again. If he thought he was being quiet before, he clearly abandons any effort. Holding nothing back, he moans loud enough it echoes in the room.
Whatever restraint Okee had left snaps.
Harder now.
I press my thighs together beneath the blanket. My breath has gone shallow, ragged. I don’t mean to let my hand drift down. I don’t mean to let my fingers slip beneath the waist of my drawers. But the sight of Boone yielding like that undoes me.
The sounds they make pull at me, the wet slide of flesh, the soft clap of skin meeting skin, Okee’s breathing, low and controlled, like he’s reining himself in by sheer will, every exhale measured as if he's fighting the urge to let go completely.
My fingers move faster without permission, chasing the same helpless rhythm they set.
Shame burns hot, but it only feeds the want, makes it sharper, hungrier.
I watch Boone’s face in stolen glances: the way his brows knit, then smooth out in surrender, the way his lips part wider with every thrust. There is no shame in him here, only trust so complete it feels sacred.
To see him like this, vulnerable in a way I’ve never been allowed to witness, stripped of every defense, is like being handed something forbidden.
It undoes me more than the sight of their bodies joined.
My breath catches, shallow and uneven. I bite my lip to keep any sound locked inside.
I can’t tear my eyes away. My fingers circle faster, slick and urgent, pressing hard against my tender bud.
My thighs tremble under the blanket, liquid heat pooling low, tightening until I can barely breathe, until I’m right at the precipice.
“Okee, please, I’m so close.”
“Go ahead,” Okee grunts.
With a small sigh of relief, Boone’s hand drops between them.
My whole body seizes. My thighs close hard around my hand, my back bowing off the pallet before I can stop it. The pleasure is sudden and vicious, a hot wave that tears through me and takes every sensible thought with it.
I bite my cheek until copper floods my tongue, swallowing the cry before it can escape. My nipples tighten so quick and taut it stings. The climax goes on and on, leaving me shaking in the dark, my hand trapped between my thighs, my eyes fixed helplessly on them.
Boone comes a heartbeat later—body seizing, a choked, guttural sound tearing out of him. The pool of spend on his belly gleams in the firelight. Okee follows almost immediately, burying himself with a rough, shuddering groan.
For long seconds the only sounds are their harsh breathing and the faint crackle of embers. They stay joined, Okee draped over Boone, lips brushing his neck in slow, lazy kisses. Boone’s body goes soft, spent, utterly relaxed beneath the weight of the man who just took him apart.
I lie perfectly still while inside my heart hammers, hand still cupped between my thighs, sticky and trembling.
The blanket is twisted around my legs. Sweat cools on my skin.
The air smells of woodsmoke, sex, and something sweeter—something like a kind of intimacy I’ve only ever watched from the outside.
Okee smooths Boone’s hair back from his forehead, a quiet motion full of the sort of familiarity that makes my chest swell too large to contain with any dignity. I have watched them belong to one another with a certainty so deep it makes me feel like a stray dog nosing at the door.