Page 144 of Headstrong Like Us
And he thrusts.
“Holyfuck,” I groan.
Deep, hard, purposeful pumps that roll my eyes back.
“Farrow,” I cry for him. Our breaths unite. Our lips only brushing, groans and breaths too loud and heavy to kiss.
“Fuck, Maximoff.” His jaw tenses, gritting his teeth while arousal pounds into him like he’s pounding into me.
We’re two bodies melding into one. Souls fusing, and he cups my face, our eyes excavating to the core. I’m pinned to the mattress. His arms wrapped around the back of my neck in a tight hold. The peak nears as his thrusts quicken. My cock sliding against his stomach with scalding friction.
He hits the most sensitive spot of nerves, teasing them and building them up towards an eruption. One more second and I’ll—
He goes still.Fuuuuck.
I growl and Farrow silences me with a kiss. He starts back up again, this time slow. Pumping his hips in a rhythm that frustrates every part of me. But it takes less work to ride me to that place again. He quickens his movements. Deepens them. I’m right there.
He thrusts. In.
Out.
In. One more…
He stops again.
“Farrow, I swear to God,” I groan. “Stop edging, man.” Water pricks at the corners of my eyes from being denied a climax.
Farrow eases back into a slow pace. “Stop being so impatient. I’m taking my fucking time with you.”
Fuck.
He does just that. Repeating the process of tormenting me again and again. And when I can’t stand it anymore, when I’m a second away from fisting my own cock, he starts thrusting at a maddening rate. Driving into me so hard that he rises on one foot, lifting my ass with him. The angle sends me off.
“Fuckfuckfuck,” I curse into his bicep, my fingers digging into his back.
He grunts, and the sound of his aroused about-to-come noise sends me over. I release with him, my waist bucking forward, and my cock twitches in absolute relief. He reaches down to stroke me, eking out every bit of pleasure.
We share a few tender moments together. Not moving. Just breathing. Our bodies still flushed up against each other.
He runs a hand through my damp hair, and I trace the inked wings on his neck. Farrow watches me, and then slowly, he eases my legs back down. I stretch them out further, the muscles tight in my calves.
“Fuck,” I whisper with one more deep breath, and I roll onto my side, grabbing the towel beside the mattress to clean up.
He leans over and kisses me on the lips. I can tell he’s assessing me, making sure I’m not cracking open Overthinking for Dummies, apparently my favorite textbook.
I’m good, and I just feel the need to say, “I love you.”
He smiles. “I love you too, wolf scout.” His cell suddenly starts vibrating on the hardwood.
I watch as he steps off the mattress, buck-naked to retrieve the phone. He frowns as he reads the caller ID.
“Who is it?” I ask.
He looks up. “The police.”
30
FARROW KEENE
