Page 64 of Illicit Desires (The Deepest Desires 3)

“And I think you want the room to be filled with the gagging and slurping sounds that come from me, as you assault my throat repeatedly, until you can’t take it any longer and explode. I’ll have no choice but to swallow every drop.” I swipe a hot, wet line along the underside of his dick as his body fuckingtremblesfor me.

He wants this so bad, it’s radiating off him in waves. He wants to fucking own me, and I want to give that to him.

“Is that what you want?” I ask, pumping his cock gingerly in my fist.

His full bottom lip is pulled between his teeth as his large, calloused palm caresses my jaw. “Yeah, I do.” His voice is raspy, full of gravel and raw desire. The sound goes straight to my aching cock.

“Own me, then.” My hands come down to rest on the tops of my thighs as I kneel before him like he’s my king, a sexy fucking Lord, and I’m here to serve him.

His resolve, his hesitancy, snaps like a rubber band. His eyes turn hungry as he mercilessly shoves his cock past my lips, over my tongue, and down my throat in one swift go. The salty flavor of him explodes in my mouth as his manly, musk scent fills my nostrils. Both hands fly to my head, gripping the strands painfully, holding me in place while he thrusts, taking what he needs from me.

My gag reflex is triggered immediately, but I push through, breathing through my nose while relaxing my throat and letting him in. The noises hitting my ears are wet and fucking filthy. I dig the heel of my palm into my rock-hard cock, groaning at the sensation.

“No,” he growls. His voice is husky—deeper than I’ve ever heard it—and it’s fucking sexy. “Don’t fucking touch yourself. Not until I come.”

Well, okay, then.

My lips curve into a smile around his dick as I moan at his stern demand. His hips thrust harder, fucking my face with brutal intent. Tears are pouring down my face, spit falling into my lap. It’s messy, it’s dirty, and I’m so insanely turned on, I can barely think straight. My eyes lift to his face, finding his ravenous gaze locked on mine. My body temperature spikes as a shiver slides through me.

The way he’s watching me take everything he has to give is intoxicating. Its effects are ten times more potent than the opioids swimming in my bloodstream.

Anderson is close to combustion. His movements are becoming erratic, his chest is rising and falling with shallow breaths, and his brows are drawn tight. He’s right on the brink.

My hand comes up to his balls, fingers teasing my way around them with a feather-light touch. He shoves himself all the way into my mouth, until my nose is brushing against the coarse, dark hair at the base as he lets out a guttural groan, spilling down my throat. His cock pulses in my mouth as his release rips through him like a freight train.

He slumps against the wall, fighting to catch his breath. “That was… fuckingincredible. Jesus Christ, Crew.”

I stand up on shaky legs, realizing the shower isstillon, yet I haven’t bathed at all, I rid myself of my clothes and climb in. Knowing he’s going to join me, I’m not at all surprised ten seconds later, when the curtain opens and in walks Anderson. His dopey, sated, post-orgasm smile hits me right in the chest.

Stepping up to me, he places hot kisses all along my collarbone and throat, his palm wrapping tightly around my dick that isstillrock hard and aching for release. My eyes flutter closed on the first downstroke, my knees wobbling and threatening to give out on me. The immense amount of pleasure that comes from his fist jacking me is insane.

“Fuckkk.” My fingers weave through the short locks at his nape as my mouth seeks his. My body is lit up like a live wire, and I need any and all connection with him that I can get. My tongue glides into his mouth, caressing and exploring every corner as my hips rock into his hand.

“Gonna come for me, baby boy?”

Baby boy. That’s new, and it acts like a shot of fucking lust straight to my nuts. I nod my head as a noise between a whimper and a moan comes out of me against his lips. “I’msofucking close.Fuck.”

His other hand snakes down and tugs on my balls, squeezing with the just right amount of pressure. He brings his lips up to my ear, and his words send me over the edge. “Give it to me,” he growls. “Come all over my hand, you dirty fucking boy.”

His touch is tumultuous. A blazing inferno of living, breathing need, sparking every nerve ending in my body, and sending shock waves of electricity until my balls seize up and hot ropes of cum are spurting out all over his abs and his hands. He wrings my body dry, filling me up with overwhelming pleasure.

The sounds coming out of me are inhuman, and would be embarrassing if I wasn’t floating—soaring, really—from the high only he can give me. He continues to stroke me until every last drop comes out. My head falls to his shoulder as the water, which is now cooling, beats down on my back.

The feelings swirling around inside of me are loud and immense. The transition from best friends to more has been a fucking experience, to say the least, and everything has happened so quickly. Not that I would change a thing or slow anything down, but I’m finding myself taken aback lately by howstronglyI feel for Anderson, and not just in a friendly way.

I think I’m falling in love with him, and that scares the shit out of me. It doesn’t scare me for myself, though. It scares me for him. I’m a fucking disaster. A walking corpse, with enough fucked up mental issues to fill an asylum, and I’m a fucking addict who, most days, refuses to even admit I have a problem, and who has zero desire to quit or be a better person.

I’m going to ruin him. I’ll fucking destroy him with my love, and I’m not a strong enough person to acknowledge that and walk away to save him. I’m fucking selfish. It’s why my parents want nothing to do with me, and why I lose anything that matters to me. I’m a fuck-up, and my love is toxic.

But I can’t stop, though. He makes me feel not as broken when I’m in his arms like this, and that’s just not something I’m willing to give up. I need him.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Anderson

The next morning, I’m up before Crew, and decide to head downstairs to start breakfast. When we were teenagers, we used to always make a huge spread for breakfast when he would sleep over at my house. Waffles, muffins, eggs, bacon, sausage, all the fresh fruit you could ever want.

It was something wealwaysdid, and I love thinking back on those days. It’s wild thinking about where we werethencompared to where we arenow. I can’t help but wonder if we were always destined to wind up here, intimately attached. If our friendship was always a little more than just friendly, and if these feelings were hiding beneath the surface, waiting for the right moment to sprout.

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