Page 106 of Edging Coach
“Is this good?” I panted.
That helpless little whimper wasdivine.
“Fuck, Jack…” His back arched. “I want…” He craned his neck to look over his shoulder, bringing his gorgeous face into profile. “I want to be able to kiss you.”
“Mmm, please.” I slowed to a stop, then pulled out. “Turn around.”
He did, but he gestured for me to sit back. “Against the headboard.”
Ooh, that was even better than what I’d had in mind, so I did as I was told. As soon as I was where he wanted me, he straddled my legs and eased back down onto my dick.
Fuck. That view. The way his eyelids fluttered shut and his lips parted as he slid down onto me. The way he tipped his head back and moaned curses as he took every inch. He’d wanted it faster a minute ago, but he was glacially slow now, as if he wanted to really feel and savor the way we moved together. The way I was sitting, I couldn’t move my hips much—the range of motion was limited, and I was pretty sure my beat-up body would object if I tried to thrust up into him—so I just ran my hands all over him. I just enjoyed the view and the way he rode me.
I loved this. God, it was hot. And sexy. And perfect.
Devonwas hot and sexy and perfect. Not just the ripped abs and sculpted body—him. Everything about him. His snark. His soft and vulnerable side. His intelligence. Everything. Just… everything.
Do you know how much I’d give to be with you every night of my life?
I banished that thought because I didn’t want to get emotional now. Not like that. Not while we were like this. Tonight was about enjoying Devon, and being as close to him as I physically could be. Being buried inside him while he sworein multiple languages as pleasure rolled across his beautiful face.
Then he opened his eyes and gazed down at me. Fucking hell, that was even better. I loved the fire in his eyes. I loved that fire being focused on me. I loved?—
Him.
My throat was suddenly tight.
Oh my God. I love you.
I pulled him down into a kiss before I said something I couldn’t take back. He took my wrist and guided my hand between us; I took the hint and started stroking him, and I was rewarded with a throaty whimper before he had my mouth again.
He grabbed the headboard for leverage. Then he had a handful of my hair. He kissed me hard and rode me harder, and we fell into a perfect rhythm; I wasn’t in control now, and I loved it. I loved what he did to me, and how he used my dick to drive himself higher and higher. He was getting even harder in my hand, the pre-cum slicking my strokes, and when he broke the kiss with a breathless curse, I almost lost it myself.
“Come,” he growled. “Crisse, Jack, I want you to come.”
“Please,” was all I could say, and I hoped he understood the rest:Please take me there.
He sat up enough to hold my gaze, and we both worked furiously to get the other off. My orgasm was closing in fast, but it nearly derailed as I gazed at this beautiful man on top of me.
I want this forever.
All the reasons forever wasn’t an option tried to come crashing in, but I chased them away and pumped Devon for all I was worth. His eyes fluttered shut again, and he let his head fall back as he mumbled, “Fuck, I’m almost there…”
All my other thoughts scattered, and I was suddenly laser-focused on this feedback loop. On getting him there as fast hewas getting me there, and how much I wanted to make him come and how much I wanted to explode inside him and?—
“Fuck—Jack!” Devon’s body jerked and his hole clenched around me in the same instant cum erupted over my fist and onto both of our stomachs.
Then I was coming too, and hip pain be damned, I needed to get deeper into him, so I thrust up a few times as I shouted my release.
Devon slumped over me. I wrapped trembling arms around him, and for a moment, we just breathed and shook.
But he wasn’t just shaking with the aftershocks of an orgasm. Something was different, especially when he pulled in a soft, ragged breath.
“Devon?” I whispered. “You okay?”
He sat up, and my stomach dropped when I saw the tears running down his face. He avoided my gaze as he visibly tried to collect himself.
“Hey.” I brushed away his tears. “Are you okay? Talk to me.”
