Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 97417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Ansel’s voice was hushed when he spoke, “Don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?” He held on while Ansel descended.
“Like that. Damn it, stop.” Ansel reached between his legs and gripped the length for insertion.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Pudding brain, remember?”
Heat enveloped the head of his cock. Ansel bit his bottom lip and shivered as his hole was breached. Fitch fought his own full-body quake. His heart stuttered and took up a home in his throat. He knew his fingers were gripping Ansel’s hips too hard, he’d probably leave bruises, but there was nothing he could do to stop. His body had disconnected from his brain and was no longer responding to commands.
He was doing it. And, Christ, it felt amazing.
The heat, the pressure, the knowledge that he was invading Ansel. Fitch was inside him. His balls tightened and fire zipped up his spine.
“Stop looking at me like I’m special,” Ansel whispered. It was so quiet and said with such a plea, Fitch barely heard because he was so focused on his own discovery. But when he finally did, the heart in his throat grew so large it almost choked him.
It took a moment to swallow back the emotion enough to respond. “Sorry, Angel, but that’s one thing I can’t do for you.”
With his words, Ansel’s tremble grew. He closed his eyes and shook his head. His fingers clawed Fitch’s shoulders and he clenched his jaw. Then, with a hoarse cry, he seated himself fully on Fitch’s dick.
Zings of pure pleasure pushed a grunt from Fitch’s lips and without thinking, he thrust up, into the heat, toward the bliss. The action forced another curse from Ansel. Without opening his eyes, Ansel lifted up enough so when he pushed back down, the friction ignited the most amazing heat. Hell yes, it felt awesome. Better than Fitch had imagined. Certainly better than ever before.
But something was missing because Ansel still wouldn’t look him in the eye.
They moved together, Ansel lifting up, Fitch following. Their groans matched the slow, steady pace, but Fitch wanted more. He needed to see the desire in Ansel’s green depths.
“Look at me,” he said.
Ansel shook his head and shivered on another grinding of hips, his breath releasing on a high moan.
Fitch increased the force of his thrust. “I said, look at me.”
Again, Ansel shook his head, this time more wildly so his hair swished around his face and hid it from view. Frustration overcame him and he pulled at Ansel’s arms until he collapsed forward. Their chests pressed together, both damp with sweat, their nipples pebbled with passion. The contact made them both groan.
Fitch wrapped his arms around his dancer even while Ansel buried his face in Fitch’s neck. Their hips continued to work together in an unending assault of greed. Fitch loved the weight above him, heavier, more solid than female partners. Ansel was hard edged, in his attitude and his physicality.
“Open your eyes, please.” He combed Ansel’s hair with his fingertips then smoothed a hand down his back.
“I don’t want to.” Ansel’s breath warmed his neck and his cock quivered between them.
“I need you to look at me.”
“Oh for fuck’s sake, just fucking fuck me and shut up.”
Fitch had to fight a laugh. As much as Ansel’s annoyance made him smile, his need for eye contact was too deep to ignore. He forced his body to stop moving even though it went against every instinct he possessed.
As he expected, Ansel cursed him, calling him every name in the book, but he didn’t look up. Because of their position, Ansel didn’t even have to slow down. He was on top. He was in control. He whipped his flexible hips up and down over Fitch’s shaft, seeking his own satisfaction. Fighting, with every swearing breath.
Goddamn, it was ferociously hot and he was about to lose his head, to forget his need for connection. He grabbed Ansel’s ass and tried to stop the guy’s frantic movement, but Ansel’s muscles were toned to perfection, and he was stronger than he looked. Fitch needed to restrain him now or it would end too fast.
In desperation, he wrapped his arms around Ansel and rolled until he was looking down at his lover’s painted face.
“No, you bastard.” Ansel punched out wildly, his eyes squeezed tightly shut. His fist connected with Fitch’s shoulder.
“Stop it before you hurt yourself.” He grabbed Ansel’s wrists and dragged them above his head, pinning them to the bed. He hooked his feet over Ansel’s ankles to hold him still and pulled his cock almost all the way out.
Ansel’s desperate, angry sob twisted Fitch’s already aching heart.
“Open your eyes and look at me.”
That plump bottom lip tucked behind a row of straight white teeth and Ansel’s chest hitched. A moment passed and then another, Ansel’s breath fluttering wildly in and out. Finally, he spoke, but what he said wasn’t what Fitch expected.