Page 79 of Our Secret to Keep

River tackles me to the mattress. When I try to get up, he pins me down with his muscular thighs, his big cock flush with my abs.

Make it fucking stop.

I think he’s even harder now… and so am I. As if that were even fucking possible.

“If you don’t listen to me, then you need to find a Sex Addicts Annonymous meeting and get a sponsor.”

“Fuck that. I’m not going to a meeting and telling strangers about my life.”

He holds his weight down on me, all two hundred pounds of muscle and cock. River leans forward, so close our lips could touch.

Is he going to kiss me?

Would I let him?

Maybe if he lets me jerk off…

“Stop it,” he bites out, his green eyes intense and scary. “You haven’t even made it one day.”

I like this side of River.

Women never put up a fight when I suggest we get rough. They embrace it. Now that the tables are turned, I can see why they enjoy it.

I hated when the She-Devil dominated me, which is why I’m always in control with women. But I want River to claim me.

To create some friction, I grip his hips and shove him lower until our cocks touch. His eyes widen, and those full lips part for me. River wants to say something, yet he lets me rock my hips, allowing me to rub our bodies together.

My boxer briefs are the only thing separating us. Bet he didn’t think this through when he jumped me like a dirty whore looking for a ride. And so that’s what I let him do.

“Nate,” he whispers, eyes half-closed. “Fuck. Stop it.”

“You can stop me at any time.”

Guiding his body over mine, he does nothing to prevent our dicks from brushing in the most delicious way.

I need this.

I needhim.

This isn’t even sexual. My need to be one with him consumes me and drags me down a never-ending spiral of doom and destruction.

I glance down at where our bodies join, then back up to his face. “You don’t want to stop, do you?”

Instead of looking at me, he closes his eyes and moans.

Fuck, that’s hot.

I love the sounds he makes when he comes.

River cages me with his big body, resting his elbows on each side of my head and moving his hips like a greedy little slut desperate for my cock.

His head drops to my shoulder, and his lips are on my neck. He sticks out his tongue and wets my skin, purring in my ear.

“Tu es à moi,” he whispers, and I wish I had paid attention in French class.

I’d write it down to Google later, but my dick is the only hard thing near me. And the last I checked, it doesn’t make for a great writing instrument. Although, who knows, my dick has been known to perform miracles.

I peek up at River when he lifts his head, and our eyes meet. “Say that again.”

---