Page 134 of Outcast
I dragged my gaze up to his teasing smile. “Got a little distracted by the gorgeous view.”
“Uh-huh. I noticed.” He kicked off his jeans and turned to flip on the faucet. Damn, his ass was even more distracting.
The shower came on, and Emory stepped inside the stall.
I hurried to strip off my clothes so I could join him. In thirty seconds flat, I was pushing past the shower curtain and pressing up against his wet, slippery body.
“I didn’t expect this day to be anything but a shitfest,” I murmured before kissing his neck. “You make everything better.”
He leaned back against me, craning his neck to the side to give me room to kiss, nibble, and lick.
He moaned softly. “You make me feel perfect.”
“You are perfect.”
He turned and slipped his arms over my shoulders. “No. I’m not even close, but the way you look at me, the way you give me room to be whoever I need to be…” He kissed me. “It means the world to me.”
I pulled him tight against me, deepening the kiss. Water poured over my head and down my back, everything hot and wet and slippery.
I let my hands roam up and down his torso, feeling out his lean muscle, the sharpness of his hips, and the curve of his pecs.
When I brushed my thumb over his right nipple, he arched, pushing his ass against my hardening cock.
“Fuck, yeah,” I murmured. “Hand me the bodywash.”
Emory grabbed the bottle and handed it over, never questioning my plans. He trusted me so completely that it shook me a little. Could I really be everything he needed? I’d fucked up his life by acting rashly. Fucked up Holden’s work to improve our reputation.
And yet Emory was here, loving me instead of telling me to go to hell.
I still wasn’t sure I deserved it, regardless of what he said. But I was so damn grateful I could cry.
I pumped a handful of body wash into my palm and rubbed it between his ass cheeks. He sucked in a sharp breath, parting his legs a little.
I reached around his body, using the remainder of the slick soap to fist his cock and stroke. He moaned, head dropping back onto my shoulder.
“Fuck me, Gray,” he said, voice wrecked from just a few touches. “Please.”
I positioned my cock at his ass—not to push inside but to ride the slick space between his cheeks. I rubbed up against all his wet, slippery flesh and groaned as pleasure streaked through me.
Emory made a questioning sound, but as I rocked a second time, the head of my cock catching and tugging his rim, making him gasp, and my right hand jerking his cock in time with my thrusts, he got the idea.
I pinched and rolled his nipple with my left hand, making him whimper and arch perfectly for my cock to thrust through his ass cheeks once more.
“Feels so good,” he gasped.
I feasted on his neck, kissing and sucking while I rutted against him, chasing the high that only he could give me. Sure, I could get off with other guys, but there had never been the same need to it, one that went beyond flesh and nerves to the very heart of me.
My arms tightened around Emory, holding him closer. “Fuck, I want to mark you up and make you mine.”
“Do it,” he said. “Doesn’t matter anymore.”
I sucked hard on his neck while I squeezed his cock, and he came with a cry, warm cum washing away with the shower spray.
I held him through it, softening my love bites to gentle kisses.
Emory pulled out of my arms and dropped to his knees, taking my cock into his mouth. I probably tasted like soap, but he devoured me anyway, moaning as my shaft filled his mouth.
His tongue curled around me, danced over my tip, and then delved into the slit at the top.
