Page 57 of Privileged (Adrenalin)

“Mmm.” He groans again when I clench my fist around his dick.

“You want me to use this hole when I need to get off?”

“Oh, God.” Sloan’s ass clenches around me in a way that suggests he can’t last much longer. And now that we’ve stumbled onto the factwe both like how I’m using his body, I’m not sure I can hold back either. I may be barely thrusting into him, but that simple notion, combined with the friction, the pressure, even the squelching sound of me tunneling into Sloan, combine to have my cock aching with the need to explode. So, try as I might, I can’t keep my hips from punching up faster.

Harder.

Deeper.

Each time propelling us both closer to the precipice.

“Carter. Oh, God. Carter.” Sloan attempts to writhe above me, but between the legs I have wrapped around him, and the fact he’s speared on my dick, all he succeeds in doing is fucking his pretty cock into my fist with increasing urgency.

“I can’t. I’m—” I cut him off by thrusting my tongue into his mouth, drinking his air as wave after wave of cum spurts from his tip. Both are erotic as hell, but it’s the way his ass quivers around my dick that has me giving over to my own release. One so powerful I briefly lose time, the room coming back into focus only when I hear Sloan’s breathless voice next to my ear

“You were right,” he says softly.

“About what?” I brush my lips over his, tasting the faint tang of sweat lingering there.

“It’s so tight your cum doesn’t fit.”

It takes a moment for his words to register, which they do right about the time I realize it’s drippingeverywhere.

I chuckle before giving him a soft kiss. “Time for another shower.”

Chapter nineteen

Sloan

The door hits the wall with an ear-splitting bang as Blake shoves it open with his back. It’s only after I take a moment to recover that I register why he’s coming in ass first.

“Oh my God, what did you do?” I jump up to try and stop the door from knocking him off balance as it swings dangerously close to the crutches supporting his weight.

“I slid out on a turn and was stupid enough to try to save myself from falling. Sprained my ankle.” He hobbles to one of the chairs in the reception area and drops heavily onto it, propping a wrapped foot on the adjacent chair.

“Why is trying not to fall stupid?” I take the crutches and prop them against the wall.

“Any time you put your foot down to stop a fall, chances are something’s gonna bend in the wrong direction. It’s a lot easier to recover from cuts and bruises than a sprain, so I should’ve just kept my foot on the pedal and landed on my leg.”

I’m not a biker but I can’t really argue with that logic.

“Why are you even here? You shouldn’t be walking around.” I hover over him, hands on myhips.

“I wanted to tell the kids in person why I couldn't ride with them for a few days, and then I just wanted to sit down so I figured I’d pop in here.”

I can’t help rolling my eyes despite the fact it was a nice gesture to meet with the kids.

“How bad is it? What did the doctor say?”

“Haven’t been to one yet.” He runs a hand through his already disheveled hair.

“Where’d the crutches come from then?”

“Leftover from a knee surgery I had a few years back. I figured they’d come in handy again at some point.” He flashes me a mischievous smile. Leave it to Blake to be proud of having the foresight to predict he’d get injured again.

“Mind if I check it out?” I kneel down, anticipating no resistance.

“Sure.”

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