Page 28 of Cherry Picking
There’s no signs of danger on the dirt path to our hideaway together.
Nothing except for that pesky yellow tape with “You’re My Secret” sprawled across in permanent marker.
“Fuck.”
Griff is bent over the kitchen counter, fingers white-knuckling the edge as filthy rotten sounds fall from his lips.
In his defense, we’ve been home for twenty minutes, and I’ve spent a good fifteen of that stretching him open with my fingers and tongue.
“I really, really need you to fuck me, Easton.”
I chuckle at his impatience and trace my tongue up the seam of his crack while I stand. His shoulders shake as I pepper kisses over them, tapping my dick on one round ass cheek.
The very first thing he did when we got through the doors was strip us both of our clothes. I’ll be missing pieces of that suit for the rest of the season.
“Lucky for you, I really, really need to be inside you.” When I chuckle, he winds an arm back to tangle in my hair.
“You enjoy taunting me too damn much,” he mumbles but I lick into his mouth and quiet his protests.
It takes no effort at all to notch my dick at his entrance, the soft flesh caving at the slightest pressure. A moan slips from Griffin’s lips, soaked up by my tongue as my hips rock slow and steady, filling him with every inch of me.
“Oh, fuck. So good.” Griff’s head falls back on my shoulder, hands gripping the countertop and neglecting the thick erection nestled angrily between his thighs.
The coconut oil on the counter serves to make the glide in and out of his ass a blissful one, but as much as I love torturing him with slow and sweet, what we both need is something a little more vulgar.
I dig my fingers into his hip until he hisses through clenched teeth, gripping him around the back of his neck with the other, waiting as he widens his stance and bears more of his weight on the counter.
“Good, baby,” I say, kissing the sweat on his shoulder before pulling myself out to just the tip, checking my hold, and pounding into him with a reckless abandon that has him screaming and howling with every thrust.
He moans choked and broken sounds, and when I look down the skin where my pelvis meets his ass is a bright, filthy red that only makes me go at him harder. The sting bites at my own skin, stubble below rubbing us both raw, but I’ll put up with every moment of sweet discomfort if it means hearing Griff gasp and cry out my name like he is now.
“Riley. Riley. Riley,” he babbles, and when I lean forward to cover his back with my chest, I spot the rosy hue on his face and neck and the panted breaths wracking his chest.
“Need to come so I can fuck you better?”
He nods like a bobblehead with a loose spring, and I slam my lips to his as I take the hand from his hip and reach into the coconut oil to spread it along my sweaty palm. I take his cock in my fist, and the relieved groan that escapes his throat is brief, because my attack on his length is no easier than the one on his ass.
It’s a punishing pace—or in his case, a rewarding one—fucking him into my fist with such vigor that tears pool in his eyes and his muscles strain with the need to let go. To shoot off and bask in sweet release.
His eyes close just as he tumbles over, and instead of stroking him through it, I drop my hand to his balls and give them a firm squeeze, angling my dick just right that his eyes snap open and my boyfriend fucking screams as cum shoots in thick ropes from his dick.
It lands on the countertop. On the lower cabinets. The floor.
I gather what’s drooling from his dick and smear it over his stomach, up his chest, and around his neck where I fit my grip.
There is no moment of respite. I hold him to me, and I fuck up into his powerful body until my own cock thickens and unloads into his hot hole.
Even as I soften, I keep pressed in close so my release stays with him. Even as he slumps against the counter, taking in ragged, heavy breaths.
“God, I needed that,” he says, throwing me a shaky smile.
I kiss his shoulder, then rest my forehead there, closing my eyes to calm my own racing pulse.
Fucking Griffin is something magical. Sex was never like this before. Matty was needy and sensual, and I loved how open he was, but the way Griff and I come together is something else entirely.
It’s fun.
It fulfills a part of me inside I’d never known existed until he pulled it out of me.
