Page 54 of Cool for the Summer

He looks like he’s going to say something else, but instead he kisses me, which is a distraction I appreciate—his tongue is in my mouth as his lube-slippery finger breaches my hole. He’s had as many as two fingers inside me before, when giving me what I’m not mad to call the best head of my life. But this is different. He opens me up with purpose, shallow but sure strokes that have my cock swelling in anticipation. He doesn’t stop kissing me, multitasking like a pro, adding more lube, more fingers, all the while expertly licking into my mouth.

By the time he’s up to three fingers, I’m a quivering mess. My lips are throbbing, my hole is stretched but ready for more, my erection, which neither of us has touched, is an angry red. No wonder I’m lightheaded, since all my blood is either in my cock or my kiss-swollen mouth.

“Ready?” he whispers against my temple.

I’m a little overwhelmed already, finding it difficult to summon the words to answer his question. How nonverbal will I be once he actually has his cock in my ass?

“Yeah,” I manage to say, which seems to satisfy him because he leaves for a second to wipe his hand on a tissue, then roll on a condom. We discovered we use the same brand, so he has no problem with the ones I keep stocked.

He’s between my legs, looking down at where we’re about to be joined, but then he seems to change his mind because he stops before he gets farther than soothing my thighs with long brushes of his hands. “Hang on. I think you should get on top.”

There’s a strange moment of disappointment at not having him like this, and yes, a slight moment of laziness where I don’t want to get up from my nest of pillows. He must sense my hesitation because he says, “I really want to see you ride me.”

Maybe it’s manipulation, but I can’t deny him. And I see his point. For our first time like this, it makes sense to give me more of the control. We switch places, Beck lying back and me climbing on top of him. He doesn’t make me do all the work, however—he shifts me a little and takes his cock in hand, pointing it toward my hole. The first inch pops in easily enough, but then the thick slide of the rest of him has me grunting as I adjust to the sheer size.

“Okay?” He’s biting his lip, and the flush staining his cheeks spreads down almost to his navel. He’s holding himself back, so I nod and say, “Go for it.” He immediately lifts his hips and, his hands on my waist, slams me down with a snapping motion that has me seeing stars.

“Holy fucking shit,” I gasp as the force of our joining jolts through my whole body, pressure and pleasure and the edge of pain mingling together in a potent mix that has me on edge within seconds. It’s a good thing he still hasn’t touched my cock, because it feels as if the second I get a hand on me, I’ll blow.

“That’s good?” He checks in with me again and I nod frantically.

“Come on, keep going.”

He does, building up a punishing rhythm that feels so good I never want it to end.

“You’re fucking tight,” he says through gritted teeth. “Opened you up good and you’re still so—” His pace stutters and I can tell he’s close.

“Yeah, you opened me up so good,” I agree. “Opened me up so your big cock could get in there. Feels so good, Beck.”

His eyes close, and he stops moving, giving my thighs a break. His hands stroke them, as if he knows how hard they’re working. He rubs my pecs, my arms, then pulls me downward, changing the angle and making me moan. He reaches up to kiss me like this—our bodies joined in two places. I can feel the heat coming off him, the sweat on his hairline. I want to lick it off. He’s so fucking hot, and I’m in awe that the sweet kid who makes me scrambled eggs and wants to bake cookies so delicious this small town will fall in love with him is also sexy as hell and better in bed than some vastly more experienced sexual partners I’ve had.

Slowly, he rocks into me while we’re still kissing, and all of a sudden, it’s too much. Too good. Too… real.

I gasp and yank myself back, holding my seat but grateful for the space between us now. He opens his eyes and questions me with his gaze, but I focus on chasing my orgasm. I might want this to last forever, but that’s impossible.

He seems to get what I’m after because he goes all in again, thrusting up with purpose. His hand finds my bare dick that’s straining for any kind of friction to take me all the way there. He’s somehow gotten his hand lubed up, the magician, and the cool gel on my hot, desperate cock causes what feels like a geyser to erupt from me, stripe upon stripe of come coating Beck’s hand, landing on his belly, some getting all the way to his chest as he milks me, never breaking the motion of his hips.

“Oh fuck,” he says, letting go of my cock to grab my hips. He’s positively jackhammering into me, his stamina kind of eyebrow-raising, but I suppose he did come twice last night. First when we sixty-nined after dinner but before dessert. Following dessert, we rubbed off on each other, our kisses tasting like the vanilla ice cream he’d insisted on making after he discovered an ice cream maker in the pantry.

Finally, when I’m not sure if I’m about to beg for mercy or get hard again, he throws his head back, the tendons in his neck straining beautifully as he comes. I can’t feel it through the condom, but I know he’s releasing himself into me and I tighten around him sympathetically.

Once I know he’s through, I lift myself up so he can slowly slip out of me, holding onto the condom. He rolls over to take care of it quickly, and I gingerly lower myself to the bed. My thighs are burning, my ass is sore, but all in the most delicious way.

“Was that okay?” he asks, almost anxiously.

“Was getting fucked by a sneaky sex god okay? Yeah, it was pretty okay.” I have my words, if not my breath, back.

His eyes widen adorably. “Sex god? Oh, my.”

“Don’t let it go to your head,” I grumble, closing my eyes.

I hear him shuffle around me and feel him press a kiss to my nose. I’d protest, but I’m halfway unconscious already. “I’ll try not to,” he whispers, and a moment later, I’m asleep.

TWENTY-THREE

BECK

I’m so royally fuckedand I have no idea what to do. I can’t get anyone’s advice because, due to my own stupid insecurity, Donovan and I agreed not to tell anyone about us. Even though Lani guessed, I don’t know her well enough to unload my personal problems. I do have some boundaries.

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