Total pages in book: 44
Estimated words: 42461 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 212(@200wpm)___ 170(@250wpm)___ 142(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 42461 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 212(@200wpm)___ 170(@250wpm)___ 142(@300wpm)
“Stone,” he whispered. “This is…”
Royal was astonished. Stone took his coat off and draped it over a workbench, and he did the same.
There was so much to see. It was a playground for a craftsman.
There was not only gleaming wood furniture—coffee tables, benches, chairs and bookshelves with intricate carvings—but the array of heavy machinery gleaming like polished gemstones was beyond impressive.
Stone’s warehouse was a showcase of artistry and engineering.
Stone leaned on a saw table and allowed Royal to explore.
“You have an amazing gift,” he exclaimed, stunned by what he was seeing.
Royal ran his palm over the shiny surface of an opulent chocolatey-brown armoire.
“Stone, this is beautiful.”
He was still admiring the piece when he felt Stone’s hard chest, and his penetrating warmth press against his back.
Yes, yes.
Stone was so close Royal could feel the pounding of each heartbeat reverberating through his chest, a rhythmic pulsing that echoed his own.
Stone brushed his beard along his temple, then down his right cheek, sparking nerves just beneath his skin. Royal was reeling for more, breathless with yearning.
His dick had gone from semi-hard to throbbing, to erect within seconds.
Please, Stone.
Royal was caught between the sizzling heat of their connection and the turmoil of being so damn inexperienced. Every touch, every word from Stone felt like an electric current. But there was a pull—an irrefutable force—that was too intense for him to cower away from.
He was so far out of his depth, sinking into something that could be dangerous, yet it seemed inevitable, as if fate itself had orchestrated this moment, and now there was no going back.
Stone
Stone had been watching Royal from a distance as he moved throughout his space, his heart beating louder than the sound his axe made hitting wood.
Royal walked with such sensual grace, caressing the sleek surfaces as if he were reading their history.
Stone wasn’t one for showing vulnerability, had never thought much about telling anyone how much each piece he made touched his soul—but there was Royal, standing in the middle of it, gazing at them as though he could see all of him in each grain and knot..
Royal had paused in front of one his recent favorite pieces, a massive china cabinet, its form so detailed it almost seemed to breathe. Those manicured fingers traced the cabinet’s muscular frame, massaging the deep groves, the gentle curves, as if he were searching for the pulse.
“This is incredible,” he said, his voice, quiet and reverent. “I can almost feel you in this piece.”
Stone swallowed, his throat dry, his body taut with restraint, but he’d given up and approached Royal from behind.
“It’s like you. So strong and beautiful. Demanding to be seen, not heard. A sight that speaks for itself, that speaks volumes without uttering a sound.” Royal spoke like a fucking poet.
The words Stone wanted to say tangled on his tongue as he crowded Royal from behind.
He’d been in his shop for fifteen minutes and somehow, he’d nailed how Stone felt about his work. How he’d poured so much of himself into it—his heart, his sweat, his entire being—but hearing Royal say it, seeing the admiration in his brown eyes made the hardness inside him weaken.
“Thanks,” he gritted, his voice rough like the scrape of a saw through bark.
Royal turned in his arms and gazed up at him through his thick honey-brown lashes. He stared at him as if he weren’t seeing a rugged, toughened-hands, lumberjack, but the man beyond that, the one he was deep inside.
For the first time in years, Stone felt real yearning.
He wrapped his hands around Royal’s wrists, and pulled them upwards, making his palms drag up his chest, knowing he could feel the pounding of his heart, but it didn’t stop him.
He draped Royal’s arms over his shoulders and linked his slender fingers together behind his neck before he lowered his hands to Royal’s hips. He tugged them closer, not stopping until his hardness was pressing into Royal’s stomach.
Royal’s lips parted as if he were surprised to feel how turned-on he’d made him. His fingers played in the hair at the nape of his neck before he lowered his head down until their foreheads touched.
Stone cupped Royal’s cheek, brushing his thumb over his supple skin, so careful and tender as if he might scratch him if he rubbed too hard.
He leaned in slowly, and Royal did the same, meeting him halfway. Their lips brushed, tentative at first, a gentle touch of warmth, as delicate as a snowflake landing on a winter’s night. Then the quietest exhalation before the connection intensified.
He pressed his mouth to Royal’s in a way that spoke of years spent waiting for just the right person to see him. Stone let go and fell all the way in. Royal’s lips were so tender, and submissive against his own, allowing Stone to guide the passion deeper.