Page 70 of Unwanted

His tired body momentarily slackens and I take the opportunity to swoop in and finally watch him fall apart.

Fast and hard, I thrust my fingers in and out of his entrance and swiftly make a fist around his stiff cock with my other hand, jerking him off to this new rhythm.

In and out.

Up and down.

“Fuck,” Frankie cries out. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”

Writhing underneath my touch, Frankie’s come decorates my hand while his ass pulsates and clenches around my fingers.

Watching him fall apart is all I need to allow myself to follow.

Roughly, I turn him around so he’s on his haunches and rise to my knees, furiously tugging at my cock.

As if he’s in sync with every thought I have, Frankie looks up at me, his eyes filled with nothing but desire, then opens his mouth and sticks his tongue out at just the right time.

White streams of my come coat his tongue and lips, and I almost want to take a picture to make sure I never forget how debauched and gorgeous he looks for me right now.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, you know that?”

23

FRANKIE

The treadmill slows down to a bearable pace as it hits cool down mode. Reaching for my towel, I wipe the sweat that covers my forehead and face and try to regulate my breathing.

When I’m done wiping down, I come face-to-face with Arlo, who’s casually smiling at me, and I can’t help the stretch of my own lips in return.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” I ask.

“Like what?”

I shrug. “I don’t know, all dopey-eyed and love-drunk.”

He smirks at me. There’s no denying Arlo and I love one another, but for now it’s unspoken and insinuated. Almost like saying it out loud will change the dynamics of whatever dream-like version of us we’re living in right now.

“I like seeing you here every morning,” he says. “Especially since you’re not awake or even in my bed when I leave.”

The treadmill belt finally stops turning and I jump off, my legs feeling like Jell-O. “I told you Clem said I’d be in your bed—”

“By the first weekend,” he interrupts. “We’ve passed the second.”

“Maybe I don’t want to be in your bed,” I tease. “Maybe I just like using you for your body.”

He chuckles. “You can use my body for as long as you like, but I’d like us to sleep and wake up in the same bed while you do it.”

I knew Arlo wasn’t going to buy the Clem excuse for much longer, but I couldn’t put into words why I was apprehensive about us sharing a bed.

There was no doubt I wanted to share his bed. I wanted to share my life with him, and that included something as obvious as sleeping and waking up beside one another.

But it also meant sex, and despite all the non-penetrative sex we’ve been having, I don’t know if we’re quite ready for that final jump.

Between all my meaningless sex and Arlo’s lack of intimacy onanylevel, I wanted the moment to be perfect.

Weneededthe moment to be perfect.

Moving forward, I press my lips to his, hoping it’s a distraction.

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