Page 53 of Obsessed with my Temptation

“Is this what you wanted, Scott? Is this the hard fucking you were after? God, you take my cock so good. I wish everyone were here to see you take it, how the Prince moans and begs for my cock.”

Iwasbegging. I was letting out a nonsensical string of words—pleaseandharderandTravis.

I was finally at his mercy. It didn’t matter who I was, what people thought, or whether I was ashamed. He was giving me all of this pleasure, letting me have everything I ever wanted at last. Nothing else in the world existed, only him.

I love him.

It was horny brain talking. It had to be. But those words were trapped in my throat, tears welling in my eyes.

Travis put his hand on my throat. His eyes were almost black with lust and intensity, and I was holding on to him for dear life as his cock kept hitting my prostate.

“That’s it, sweetheart, you feel so fuckinggood. You’re mine, you hear me?You’re mine.”

“I’m yours,” I said, feeling about to come.

The words resounded deep within me like a bell, making the pressure crest and trigger an earth-shattering orgasm. It started in my core and I felt it down to my toes, making me buck and cry out his name, while he held on harder to me, sliding his arms around my back, and pushing my ass harder to him like he wanted to meld us together. I felt him come, his low groan in my ear, and I hugged myself to him while we panted and came down from the best sex of my life.

Travis Ashford had wrecked me in the best way possible.

* * *

After that, Travis suggested I spend the night with him, and because not only was I feeling like a noodle after a pounding for the ages, I also didn’t feel like putting distance between us and losing this closeness, so I accepted.

His friend Andy was his only roommate, and he seemed to be in bed already by the time we made it to his apartment, since all the lights were off. Travis and I made our silent way to his bedroom, and then to the bathroom, because we were both sticky and come-covered. A quick shower turned into a long one, because after washing ourselves Travis decided to show me what rimming was, and my damn head nearly exploded. He brought me to orgasm with his tongue in my ass and his hand in my cock, and then I had to wash again.

We slept on his bed, me with clothes, because I was used to sleeping in pajamas and I felt naked without them—which…I had been—and so Travis lent me one of his t-shirts with a chuckle and I fell asleep to his scent surrounding me.

Morning greeted me with lazy kisses and a gravelly-voiced Travis that tugged at all of my heartstrings. His eyes were so soft when he looked at me, I forgot how to speak for a long moment.

“Sleep well without your pajamas?”

I scoffed, pushing him lightly on the shoulder, but he was a freakingboxer, built and strong, and he barely budged. “Careful, you might hurt yourself.”

It took great effort to resist the urge to punch him.

“I just discovered something,” he said, pushing his fingers into the hair at my nape.

“What?”

“The Prince has the mostadorablemessy bedhead I’ve ever seen in my life.”

“I’m not perfect always,” I said.

Travis leaned in to kiss my cheek. “And I very much like that.”

We stayed there for a long while, speaking in hushed tones, interlacing our fingers, and pretending like we were the only people that existed in the world.

But, as it turned out, we weren’t.

“Hey, man, do you want—Oh,wow.”

Andy was at the open door, which had beenclosed,mind you, open-mouthed when his eyes met mine.

“Scott Matthews?” Andy looked at Travis. “I fucking knew it.”

“Andy, for fuck’s sake, there’s a thing called knocking!” Travis took his pillow and launched it toward his friend, which Andy took in hand. Good reflexes.

“You’ve never cared about me knocking, dude, you’re a fucking exhibitionist.”

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