Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 71912 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71912 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
Darius’s chest was even more perfectly defined than Marc had imagined. Unable to help himself, Marc leaned forward and flicked his tongue over a dark nipple. Darius sucked in his breath, encouraging Marc to keep exploring him with hands and mouth. Eventually, Marc sank to his knees and unbuckled Darius’s belt.
Darius looked down at him. His eyes darkened to black, and Marc held his gaze as he undid the button and zipper on Darius’s jeans. Darius groaned when Marc wrapped his hand around his cock, which was already hard and ready to go. Marc got the feeling he hadn’t meant to make a sound. He seemed like the kind of man who didn’t give much, even in the midst of sex. Marc intended to see if he could break down some of those barriers.
He leaned forward and licked the tip of Darius’s cock, making him hiss. When he ran the flat of his tongue up the underside, Darius pushed at his shoulders. “Not patient enough for that.”
Marc laughed. “Now who’s eager?”
“Are you asking me to go hard on your arse?”
Marc winked at him. “Maybe I am.”
Darius shoved his pants down and stepped out of them. “Don’t go anywhere.”
“You think you scared me?” Far from it. He was more eager than he had been.
Darius stepped away and yanked open a door, which hid a half bath; he opened the medicine cabinet.
“Motherfucking shitballs.” Apparently, he didn’t find what he was looking for.
He tried the cabinet under the sink. “Goddamned cock robin bullshit.”
Marc didn’t know what he was enjoying more—the delightful string of profanity or the sight of Darius’s ass as he bent over.
“Where the fuck did you go, you little bastard?”
“If you need a condom, I have one,” Marc said.
“Don’t guess you’ve got lube too?”
If only he’d brought in his work bag. “’Fraid not. I didn’t come here expecting to be bent over a sofa.”
“Really?”
“Well, I didn’t want to jinx it, anyway.”
“Then shut up if you don’t fancy a dry fuck.” He rifled through the rest of the things in the cabinet. “Filthy ballsac.”
Next he explored a bag on the floor by his worktable.
“There you are, you little fuck muffin.”
Marc bit his lip to keep from cracking up. “You gonna use it or sit around crooning to it all day?”
Darius snarled at him. “Fuck yes, I’m gonna use it.”
Next Darius turned his ire on the couch. “Where did all that motherfucking shit come from?”
He tossed the lube and condom onto his worktable instead, grabbed Marc by the shoulders, and spun him around. Marc didn’t usually like being manhandled, but damn if his cock didn’t respond with full enthusiasm as Darius walked him to the table.
“You ready?” he whispered against Marc’s ear, nibbling the outer edge.
Marc shivered. Darius might as well have stroked his cock. “Fuck yes.”
Marc bent forward, bracing himself. Thank God, the table was a heavy wooden one that could take his weight without sliding across the tile floor. He had a feeling things were going to get rough.
Darius continued to toy with his ear as he undid Marc’s pants and shoved them down. Marc gasped as Darius simultaneously bit down on his lobe and pushed his knee between Marc’s legs, forcing him to widen his stance. Marc’s pants hung around his ankles, hampering his movement, but that just made the moment hotter. Darius had really brought out a submissive streak.
When Darius laid a hand on his back, Marc dropped to his elbows.
“Yeah, just like that, love.”
Marc heard the condom packet rip, and he arched his back to taunt Darius while he prepped himself.
The sound of Darius’s hand working his cock as he greased it had Marc fighting the urge to start jerking himself off.
Then Darius was there, easing into his ass, and Marc forgot everything but the sensation of being stretched. Holy fuck, it hurt, and yet…it was so good, so right.
“Yes!” The shout felt like it had been ripped from him.
“You like that?”
Marc nodded. There was no point in pretending. He wouldn’t let pride keep him from being fucked hard and well.
“More!” he demanded.
“I decide when you get more.”
Controlling son of a bitch. Marc shoved back and got what he wanted. Darius had obviously underestimated just how eager he was.
Darius tightened his grip on Marc’s hips, holding him hard enough to bruise. “Don’t move.”
“Stop me, then,” Marc taunted.
Darius pulled back and drove in, letting their bodies slap together.
“Fuck!” Marc grunted. He was too full. Surely Darius’s cock went all the way to his throat.
Darius leaned over him, forcing him all the way down onto the table and pinning his hands. Marc struggled, but he didn’t really want to get away. After a few of Darius’s rough strokes, Marc forced himself to stay still until Darius shifted his angle and his cock dragged over Marc’s sweet spot.
Marc pushed back, desperate for more, desperate to come.