Page 85 of Full Service

“I think I’d like to tease you a little longer.”

“I will riot.”

“But I do love a grumpy Silas.”

He grumbles under his breath, which only makes me harder. He has no idea what he does to me. He has no fucking clue.

“Then do I need to take what I want?” he asks, standing up and turning around.

Well, hell. I didn’t consider this. I bite down on my bottom lip, taking him in. His lithe runner’s body, that forearm full of tattoos—which I found out has depth and meaning, the dark scruff on his jaw, his mussed hair.

And then that cock.

Thick and long.

His hands fall on my chest, and I let out a desperate breath as his fingernails drag down to my stomach.

“I can take what I want.”

“Will you?” I ask, and he nods, pushing into me, our bodies now flush with each other.

“Do I need to prove it to you?”

I mean, he should. He should so prove it, but then again, I want to fuck him over the couch—been imagining it all day. But the thought of him pushing me down on the sofa and riding me is also a delicious scenario.

“I mean, everything is just a hypothesis until proven, right?”

I have no idea what I’m saying at the moment because his one hand is wrapped around my dick and the other is around my balls, rolling them in his palm.

“A hypothesis is usually made on limited evidence and requires further investigation.”

“Sex investigation,” I murmur as he leans up and presses his lips to mine.

“Yes, sex investigation. Sextigation.”

“Yes, we should create a new major at the university with this knowledge. I bet you’d have record enrollment,” I reply as he tugs my dick and leads me toward the front of the couch. When I’m right where he wants me, he shoves me down, my ass and back landing on the cushions. He follows me down, his thighs straddling my hips, his hard dick straining out from his body.

“I think we should resume our research, don’t you, Mr. Winslow?”

“Yeah, Dr. Sinclair. I think we should. For science.”

He grins down at me and then I feel the head of my cock slot at his hole and a second later, he slams down. I arch up off the couch in shock.

Jesus. He took me in one fell swoop. He didn’t even work me in.

“Goddamnit!” I shout and look up to see Silas’s head thrown back, his chest heaving.

“God yes,” he says, his eyelids fluttering. “Fuck yes.”

My fingers dig into his hips and flex roughly when he drags his hole up my entire length and slams down onto me once more. I shout again, the tight ring of his ass strangling my cock.

Oh god, I’m not going to last. I’m going to come embarrassingly fast.

His hips snap up and then down, his pace frantic and wild, making me nearly shoot off the sofa in response. It’s too much, too good.

“I think,” he heaves, his voice nearly breathless. “I think we need a lot more research to prove our hypothesis.”

“Yes,” I say in agreement. It’s all I can do to get a word out. I’m already half lost, half crazed, half out of my mind. I can’t even math anymore. Numbers don’t make sense.

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