Page 73 of Pumped

“Then we have nothing to worry about.” Not that I would have worried either way. I can’t imagine anyone being more careful than Owen. And after everything we’ve been through, I trust him. With my body, with my heart, with my soul.

I sit up and grab the collar of my shirt to pull it over my head. I toss it to the floor. My jeans and underwear, socks and shoes follow. With the lube in hand, I scoot backward until I’m in the middle of the bed.

Owen’s still standing in the same spot, unmoving. His lips are parted and he’s watching my every movement like a hawk.

I lay back, pillowing my head in one arm and grabbing hold of my cock with my other hand. With a smirk, I say, “Come on, asshole, what are you waiting for?”

CHAPTER

TWENTY-SIX

OWEN

I’m paralyzed by how much I want what Everest is offering. That cock. Filling me up. His cum. Painting my insides. Yes. Yes.Yes.

Everest is sprawled out in the nest of blankets and pillows, every muscle on display. Wide shoulders, defined biceps, washboard abs. A tantalizing V at his hips that I like running my tongue along. His thighs are impossibly thick. A dusting of blond hair covers his shins.

He strokes himself lazily from the base to the very tip of his long, thick cock. When he squeezes the head, pre-cum leaks out of the slit. He swipes it up with his thumb, brings it to his lips, and sucks it into his mouth.

His lips purse, pillowy and slightly pink. When he pulls his hand away, his tongue slips out, lewd and erotic, swiping across the bottom lip, leaving it glistening.

Jesus Christ, no wonder I hated him so much before. He is sex personified and he knows exactly how to flaunt it, how to use it to manipulate me, to hook me and reel me in.

My clothes go flying, landing on the floor in heaps. At the back of my mind, a voice reminds me that they’ll end upwrinkled if I leave them like that, but I can’t be bothered to fold them properly at the moment. I need that cock inside me. Now.

I reach for the packet of lube, but Everest holds it out of my reach. He takes my wrist and tugs me forward. I land on top of him, naked chest to naked chest, naked stomach to naked stomach, hard cock against hard cock. He hooks his leg around the back of my knees, trapping me in place.

“Let me,” he murmurs, his breath feathering across my ear.

I shudder.

In the weeks we’ve been having regular sex, I usually prep myself. It’s faster, more efficient, less cumbersome. The thought of letting Everest do it instead—of letting him set the pace and take control—it’s… My heart pounds in my chest as it struggles with the part of my brain that resists. I don’t want to, and yet I yearn for it so desperately it feels like I might die without it.

God. Why does Everest always have this effect on me? How does he always turn me so thoroughly inside out?

“Come on, let me in,” Everest whispers again. The earnestness in his voice breaks down the last of my defenses.

Doesn’t he know he’s already taken up residence inside me? That I’m already his? Every inch of me, every cell, every molecule, every thought, every breath. I have been Everest’s, for longer than I’m willing to admit, and I can’t fight it any longer.

I nod—just a tiny movement of my chin—and Everest flips us over. He slots himself between my legs, sliding his leaking cock against my balls, against my taint.

“Don’t move.” His eyes sparkle as he repeats my words back to me.

I scowl at him—loving and hating how our positions have reversed—and bury my fingers into the sheets.

He smirks and lowers his head.

This might be the best and worst thing that has ever happened to me. Everest scrapes his teeth down my front, teasesmy nipples with his tongue, plants kiss after kiss across my chest and stomach. When he gets down to my cock, he skips it altogether. Instead, he lifts my legs into the air and stuffs a pillow under my ass.

I’m exposed. Open. Laid bare before this man. He devours me with his eyes, the browns darkening to black. His fingers grip the backs of my thighs hard enough that I’ll probably have bruises tomorrow, and suddenly I’m craving his marks on my body. I want the evidence of his desire for me. I want to see them and remember this moment, the look of raw hunger on his face, the all-consuming heat in his eyes.

I’m not prepared when Everest dives down, stuffing his face between my ass cheeks. I let out a high-pitched whine as his tongue swipes circles around my hole, as he laps at me before pushing inside. I can’t help it. It’s filthy. Obscene. Vulgar. And I never want him to stop.

My hand leaves the bed and latches onto the back of Everest’s head, keeping him in place, pushing him deeper. His tongue is sure and confident as it works its way steadily into my body. He fucks me with his tongue, lips sealed around my hole.

My cock leaks an entire lake onto my stomach. My legs shake almost violently, still stuck in the air.

Without stopping or even slowing, Everest reaches up, fingers making contact with my lips, just like I did with him. I don’t hesitate to open my mouth and suck his fingers inside. I lick them, swirling my tongue around the digits until they are wet and dripping with my spit.

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