Page 28 of Spring Breakup
But this was next-level stuff.
“Stop squirming,” Dean mumbled. “Stay put.”
Tyler nodded, but his body had other ideas. His cock ached, and he couldn’t help himself. He flexed his hips against the floor.
Dean smacked his ass. “I mean it.”
The spanking resounded through the empty cabin, and the echo quickly warped to static noise in Tyler’s ears. That sharp sting was glorious.
He’d had his butt slapped during sex before. But it was different with Dean. It wasn’t harder or more painful. It had been playful, honestly. But Tyler’s body suddenly felt like a Coke bottle that had been shaken up. He was trembling, and his skin was sizzling. The noise that escaped him was embarrassing and ten times too needy.
Dean flipped him onto his back. “Did I hurt you?”
“No.” Tyler stared up at the pitched roof of the cabin.
“Was that okay?”
“Uh-huh.” It was so okay that Tyler was done waiting. He reached for his cock. It wouldn’t take much, two or three pumps at most. Maybe Dean would give him one of those sexy, aggravated, little huffs since Tyler was being so bad. And then he’d bust.
But he didn’t get the chance. Dean grasped his wrist and squeezed.
“If you think I’m going to let you jerk off right now, you haven’t been paying attention. Letmemake you feel good.”
“You are. You have.”
“I’ve hardly started.”
If that was Dean hardly starting, Tyler didn’t think he could withstand him full throttle.
Dean grinned. “On your back or your stomach?”
“You’re giving me a choice?” Tyler didn’t want a choice. He wanted to be put in his place.
“Yes.”
“Uh, back, I guess.”
Dean grabbed Tyler’s waist and flipped him onto his belly.
Tyler laughed, relief flowing through him. “Well, okay.”
The mind games, the mental aspect of this, was turning him on as much as Dean’s body and hands and mouth. Tyler couldn’t remember that ever being the case. His brain was usually the part of his body that he most had to fight in order to truly enjoy himself.
But this simple grab-ass with Dean was mixing and melding the physical and the cerebral, and it was the best Tyler had ever felt during sex. Which wasnot good, not good, not good at all.
It didn’t mean anything. Rule three.
The avalanche would be cleared in a few days, and then Tyler would be the wallflower again. Forgotten, pushed to the edges, watching but not lucky enough to join.
“Hey. Focus.” Dean rubbed a thumb over Tyler’s taint.
“Iam.”
“You think I can’t tell that that big brain of yours is on the other side of the mountain by now?”
Tyler rolled his eyes. “I’d assume you’re too distracted by my asshole to notice anything about my brain.”
“Mmm. It is nice… You know, we can stop,” Dean said. Everything slowed down. His hands gentled. He ran a fingertip from the arch of Tyler’s foot to the back of his knee—the popliteal fossa, his brain unhelpfully provided, as if he were about to buzz in at trivia.
