I huff. “A real one-stop shop type of guy.” Then, it’s as if my brain finally catches up with what he said. “Wait, did you sayTHC lube?”
His dark green eyes, practically black from desire, find mine as he lines me up to his entrance. “Mmhmm,” he hums, sinking down easily, like taking an eight inch, girthy cock in his ass is no sweat off his back. The only sign of discomfort at all is the way he chomps down on his bottom lip and the way his brows knit together.
All the air is sucked out of my lungs as he fully seats himself on top of me. He’s tight—unbelievablyfucking tight—and he thankfully gives us both a moment to adjust to the fit; otherwise, I think I’d blow instantly.
“It’s supposed to heighten pleasure and intensify your orgasms,” he says, and it takes me a moment to follow what he’s referring to.
The THC lube.Of the homemade variety.
“Did you have to blow him again to get it?” I ask through gritted teeth as he slowly rotates his hips, my question coming out breathier than anything.
“Maybe,” he sing-songs. “Or maybe I rode him just… like… this.” Each word is punctuated by a roll of his hips, and I sink my teeth into my lip to stifle the groan threatening to burst free. “Would that make you jealous?”
Yes.“Why would I fucking care?” I ask, rather than admit to the burning in my chest and the ache in my jaw from that visual. Not when I don’t understand why it’s there.
Rowan places one hand splayed open on my chest, while his other plants right beside my head. He leans down, hot breath fanning my face as he works himself up and down my length in long, slow strokes. He gives a shrug. “I don’t know. You strike me as the possessive type.”
I let him fuck himself on my cock leisurely, even though I’m dying to take control and slam into him. He pants, soft mewls falling from his lips as he works himself into a frenzy, his dick between us, hard and drizzling onto my stomach.
“You aren’t mine, though.”
That seems to amuse him, his grin growing until his straight, white teeth show. Something about the sight wakes something up in me, my blood pumping fire through my veins. With his lips right against the shell of my ear, he whispers, “I can be.”
His tongue flicks against my lobe before sharp teeth nip into it. A growl reverberates from my chest as I dig my fingers into the meaty flesh of his hips, flipping us in one swift go, leaving him pinned beneath me, eyes wide.
Reaching up and gripping his throat in one hand, I grab the headboard with the other as I pull out to the tip, driving back in with a force that seems to knock the wind out of him. My hips brutally snap against his, my pace relentless as I growl, “Yeah, you’d fucking like that, wouldn’t you?”
Rowan answers in the form of a whimper, but that’s not good enough.
“Words, princess. I need your words.”
His lips part, a deep throated groan rumbling from his chest as my cock grazes his sweet spot. Y-yes… yes, fuck!”
“Mmhmm.” Nodding, I continue to drill into him. “You’d fucking love to be all mine, yeah? To do with as I please. To own you. To keep you as my little toy.”
He reaches between us, but I slap his hand away.
“Ah-ah, not until I say so.” His face screws up, a snarl sounding from him at that, but his hand retreats anyway. I cup his jaw with my hand, giving a little squeeze. “Good boy.”
His eyes roll back before he shuts them tight, a whimper falling from his lips. Grabbing his left leg, I cross it over me until it’s pressed against his right, his lower body twisted while his upper stays flat on the mattress. Rowan’s eyes spring wide, his jaw slack as my hips savagely slap against his ass, the sound a steady tempo of insatiable desire.
Rowan’s arm covers his mouth as his inner elbow muffles his cries. I slap it away. “Let me hear you, princess. Let me hear you scream for me.”
Somehow, we lock eyes, neither of us able to break the trance. It’s titillating. Fervid. Alarm bells go off somewhere in the back of my mind, the intensity of this moment too much, but the passion, the hunger, the carnal part of me admiring the sight where our bodies connect flood my system, overriding all rational thought.
It’s just me and him.
Rowan.
The annoying fucking guy who I can’t stand most of the time.
The beautiful, sexy man writhing underneath me.
The one I think about more than I’d care to admit.
The one who somehow manages to chip away at my walls, even if only for a few hours at a time before I’m able to find my senses outside of his presence and put them firmly back in place… until the next time.
The one whose lips taste like spearmint and longing. Whose eyes are endless, reminding me of the beautiful landscape and luscious pastures back home. Reminding me of an easier time. A freer time. When the world was still at my fingertips. Before everything went to shit.
