Page 42 of Scout
He holds on to my waist firmly as he thrusts up into me again and again. I can feel every inch of him filling me completely, our breaths mingling in short gasps and moans that echo softly in the steam-filled room.
He finds a rhythm that drives me wild. Each movement is deliberate, each thrust perfectly timed with my gasped breaths and soft cries of pleasure. “More,” I whisper.
He responds instantly, thrusting harder, claiming every inch of me like we were made for this moment. The world outside fades away; there’s nothing but the sound of our bodies moving together and the heat pooling low in my belly.
And then he thrusts again—deeper this time, rougher, making me gasp.
His mouth finds my neck, hot lips trailing fire across my skin. “You’re mine right now,” he growls, not asking. Declaring.
His body slams up into mine with a rhythm that has me seeing stars—harder, deeper, faster, until the only sound is water, breath, and the raw sound of skin on skin. Water sloshes against the sides of the tub, spilling over in waves that echo our rhythm.
One hand shifts between my thighs and wraps around my cock with sure, slick strokes, matching the rhythm of his thrusts.
“I’m—” I gasp, the pressure coiling tight in my gut, winding to a point of no return. “I’m gonna…”
Xavier’s arms crush me to his chest, his mouth pressed to my shoulder. “Me too,” he groans.
And then we fall apart. Together.
The world shatters around us as pleasure overtakes everything. My body shakes against his, his hands still holding me through it, grounding me even as everything explodes. My breath stutters and catches, eyes squeezing shut as wave after wave of sensation pulses through me.
Xavier groans against my neck, his body pressed tight to mine. He shudders—hips jerking once, twice—then goes still, breath catching as we stay tangled together.
For a moment, we don’t speak. We just breathe.
Our hearts thud against each other in wild, chaotic sync. His chest is slick with sweat, steam, and bathwater, rising and falling against my back like the tide coming in. His forehead finds the curve of my neck, lips brushing the damp skin there. Not in a kiss—just resting. Like he doesn’t want to leave the moment, and honestly, neither do I.
The water laps softly around us again, the ripples finally easing.
We just stay there—twined together in the quiet aftermath, still trembling, still clinging to whatever the hell this just evolved into.
Eventually, he shifts. Not away. Just enough to reach for the washcloth. He doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t need to.
He runs it gently across my chest, my arms, down my thighs, like he’s memorizing instead of cleaning.
After a moment, I turn to face him, the water sloshing gently between us. I take the cloth from his hand, mirroring the motion—gliding it over his shoulders, across the curve of his neck, down the firm plane of his back.
It's quiet. Unrushed.
When we finally stand, the air outside the tub feels cooler, but not cold. He grabs a towel for me first, then one for himself, and we dry off in silence, stealing glances and soft smiles that say everything our mouths haven’t.
We head down the hall, still towel-wrapped and damp, the condo dim and hushed around us. I expect Kendrix to already be asleep, but the soft glow spilling from the guest bedroom says otherwise.
Xavier knocks once, then pushes the door open. Kendrix is in bed, shirtless, long legs stretched under the covers. His hair’s still damp from a shower, and he’s scrolling slowly on his phone, thumb moving in an idle rhythm. He looks up when we enter.
His eyes flick between us—towels, damp skin, flushed faces. He doesn’t speak, but his mouth pulls into a small smile, like he already knows exactly what happened.
“You’re still up?” I ask, voice a little raspier than usual.
He shrugs, phone lowering to his chest. “Didn’t feel like sleeping yet.”
I want to say something clever. Something to smooth over the tension or ask if he’s okay.
But Xavier beats me to it.
“You good?” he asks, voice soft. Honest.
Kendrix nods once. “Yeah. Just…” His gaze lands on me. Then Xavier. Then back again. “It feels right.”
