Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 80555 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80555 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
“You can move.” As much as I’d been cautious earlier about choking, I had an intense desire to see him let go that defied any worry about gag reflexes or stray teeth. My cock was harder than ever, and if I’d had a free hand, I likely could have beaten Eric to the orgasm punch. But I could wait. “Let go, baby. I’ve got you.”
“Yes.” He rocked again, a tentative, trusting motion that made my heart swell and my pulse quicken. Together, we found a new rhythm where I pushed deep with my fingers, working his spot, while I sucked hard on his cockhead, waiting for him to thrust forward before retreating and repeating. Not that it required too many repeats before Eric tensed again. “Close. God. If you don’t swall—”
“Gimme.” I cut off whatever noble offer he’d been about to make with a single word before finger-fucking him harder and sucking with the raw intensity of a shop vac. I wanted to get him off, wanted to see him come undone again, and he didn’t disappoint as his abs rippled, arms flexing, head tipping farther back, whole body bowing before invisible lightening seemed to strike.
“Fuck.” He came down my throat, all the tension leaving his body in one big whoosh. Forget multiple volleys, his first spurt felt like a solid twenty-ounce soda, and I worked to swallow everything he had. His eyes fluttered open, an unexpected tenderness to his expression. “Magnus.”
And that, the simple, sweet, come-drunk uttering of my name, had me finally reaching for my own cock. He ran a hand over my wet head, rubbing my neck, and the affection undid me. It wasn’t simply gratitude for the orgasm. There was a fondness to his expression and actions, and my body reacted to this newfound turn-on, cock pulsing in my hand, already ultrasensitive.
“Get up here, and I’ll finish you.” He licked his lips, meaning clear, and I went from close to coming at a single flick of his tongue.
“Fuck.” The stealth orgasm swept over me, a surprise but not lacking in intensity. My thighs quaked, and my vision blurred, and I rode the pleasure out as long as I could. As it retreated, I sucked in big lungfuls of air. “Next time. Next time, you can do that.”
“Okay.” He gave me a goofy grin as he offered me a hand up. “Next time.”
We rinsed off with the last of the hot water, finishing right before it went tepid.
“And next time better involve a mattress.” I handed him a towel.
“So we’re making a thing of this? Is it wise to be planning for a repeat?” Eric pursed his full lips, blasted brain clearly back online faster than mine.
“It doesn’t have to be complicated,” I countered. “Like tonight. We sneak it when we can, no expectations or obligations.”
“Huh.” He made a thoughtful noise. “I’ve never had a no-strings-attached secret fling.”
“Well, here’s to rectifying that oversight.” I gave him a hard kiss before he could come up with more reasons we shouldn’t keep this going. My body hummed with everything I wanted to do to and with him. No way was I anywhere close to done.
Chapter Sixteen
Eric
The August heat greeted me as I left the station, way later than planned, and blessedly, no friends around to try to make conversation.
“You headed home?” I asked Tate, who was walking with the slow, stooped gait of someone fifty years older. “Need to talk?”
“Nah. I’m good, captain.” He managed a ghost of a smile. “I’ve got Tennessee waiting for me with a plate of brownies. A long cuddle with him and our pets, and I’ll be ready to go again.”
“Good.” I was glad Tate had someone to head home to, even if my chest pinched. He and Tennessee were young, with their whole future in front of them, and listening to him talk about weddings and adoption made me feel nine hundred years old. I absolutely didn’t want to be married again or to have a partner, but the built-in stress relief, someone to talk to—though Montgomery and I hadn’t talked shop much—must be nice for Tate.
Speaking of stress relief, Magnus had somewhat indicated I could use him for that purpose. A no-strings fling. Which would be nice if we ever managed privacy again. It had been well over a week since our shower fun, and we’d had some heated looks, some flirting when no one was around, and some small talk around others, but otherwise, it was the height of tourist season for him and a consistently busy August for me. I’d picked up a few extra shifts, covering for vacations and such.
I wasn’t outright avoiding Magnus, but if staying busy meant less discussing what was happening between us, that was a happy bonus. But apparently my long day ran right into the end of Magnus’s day because we pulled into my driveway within seconds of each other.