Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 75663 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75663 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
“Bet you can’t wait until it’s my cock stretching you.”
“I’m not sure it’s that big.” Lane winked before flicking his tongue over my pebbled nipple.
“Oh fuck.” He did it again before gently biting, then sucking me. He melted in my arms each time my fingers fucked up and into him. I was so damn hard, so ready to come, I was afraid I might lose it before I was inside him. “Ride me, Lane. Sit on my cock in your bed. I want this room to smell like nothing but us every day from now on. I want my cum and sweat on the sheets and to wipe away the memory of anyone else having you here.”
“No one has had me here, Isaac, because no one has had me anywhere. Fucked me, yes, but not had me, because I’ve always belonged to you.”
My dick spasmed, my balls tightening. “Yes, you have.” I slipped my fingers free, grabbed the lube, and rubbed some over my shaft. Lane straddled me, my hand at the base of my cock, the two of us working together until I was pushing inside all that tight fucking heat. “Yes. Fuck, Lane. You feel so goddamned good.”
We breathed together while he lowered down, taking me inside him. I pulled him down to kiss me, slipping out some before snapping my hips forward again. I fucked into him like that, tongue between his lips and dick filling his ass. Lane made whimpering noises into my mouth, moving against me, nails digging into my chest. We were sweaty already, and I loved it. There was nothing like a sex-slicked man against me, a sex-slicked Lane against me.
When he pulled back some, I let him go, and then he was controlling the show, raising and lowering himself down my shaft, riding me the way he’d promised. He rolled his hips, my dick pushing up inside him, making a home right where it belonged.
“Damn, you feel so good, Lane.” My whole body was on fire for him, every inch of me on sensation overload, his eyes on mine, his hair flopping as he gave himself to me. I held his hips, helping guide him, pressing firm so I’d leave marks behind. My cock was pulsing with need, balls throbbing, that familiar tingle at the base of my spine.
Lane reached for his cock, stroking it as he lifted and lowered. And when his eyes rolled back, when his hole clenched around my dick, I was a goner. The room got blurry, and my thighs tensed as my balls drew tight. I shot inside him, pulse after pulse of my release painting his insides just the way I’d wanted.
Lane fucked himself on me harder, jacked himself faster too, before he tensed, his ass squeezing me again, his release spurting on my chest.
When he dipped his fingers in it and scooped it up, I opened my mouth, wanting it, not needing him to tell me where it was going.
“Now I’m coating your skin and inside you too,” Lane said as I swallowed down his hot load.
After I ate it all up, I pulled him down to take his mouth, and just like his paintings, we were beautiful.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Lane
I liked having Isaac in my apartment. Not better than being at his place, just different. It was nice to see him among my things. To see him shake his head, mumbling to himself about how messy I was while I painted and he cleaned up. When I told him he didn’t have to do that, he just came over to kiss me before doing it anyway.
For a few days we enjoyed the city together, nights in my space, in my bed. Still, heaviness lingered around us, the weight of the truth that our parents were struggling to accept us together.
On the day I was going to meet Genevieve to show her my paintings in person, Isaac decided to stay and try to do some work remotely. I was excited to see my old friend. We’d spent a lot of time together and attended a lot of the same events over the years.
I called a car service to take me to Genevieve’s gallery in Chelsea, where we were meeting. If I didn’t have my artwork with me, I would have taken the subway. Genevieve actually lived on the Upper East Side, which was where the party would be the following night. She often threw lavish parties to display never-before-seen pieces from her friends for people to go crazy over.
The streets and sidewalks were bustling, everyone in a hurry to be somewhere, and while I missed this, I didn’t know if I wanted or needed it in my life every day. I liked being home. I liked being close to my family. But then, if Mom and Timothy never came around, maybe it would be for the best if Isaac and I left. We could have a new start.