Page 37 of Toy No More

I groan, letting that urge pulse through me with all its intensity.

Kobe moans sweetly when I begin thrusting faster. He sucks in my cock eagerly, root to stem, while arching his back and moving his ass against me. We quickly sync up into a perfect tempo.

The lust that builds in my chest almost scares me. I tighten my grip on his nape, holding him down against the bed, and he lets me. He makes the most delicious sounds into the pillow and grips the blanket under him as I fuck him rougher and rougher, nearly knocking him off balance on his knees with every thrust.

“Do you like the feel of my cock deep inside of you? Tell me.” I kneel down over him, hand resting next to his face.

Kobe shivers, nodding sharply. But it’s not enough. I need to hear it.

“Come on, Kobe.” To be able to use my other hand while fucking him, I rest my chest against his back. We stick together with sweat, hot and heavy with the scent of our pheromones mixing and filling the room. “Tell me,” I urge him, grabbing his cock.

Kobe jerks like I just hurt him. Only when he cries out and starts twitching in my hand do I realize I put him over the edge. His entire body quivers underneath me and all I can do is watch with my lips parted, saliva pooling at the bottom of my mouth, while my heart goes amok.

I would’ve probably come too if I haven’t had so much practice and experience with having to hold back and edge for hours.

Releasing my tight grip on his cock with the last few softer strokes to help him ride it out, I slow down my thrusts. “It felt that good?” I ask, a mocking undertone in my voice.

The chuckle that comes out of Kobe surprises me.

Smirking to myself, I wait for him to turn to me. There really is something about a look a man has on his face right after an orgasm. Something about the rawness of his expression and that spent spark in his eyes that makes me…

“Keep going,” he whispers, even if his words are labored and eyelids heavy. I swallow, hesitating. “You can keep going. Keep…fucking me. Your cock feels so good,” Kobe says, staring at me, unabashed and desperate. “I want to feel you erupt inside me.”

Damn. Seems he’s got a slutty side to him, after all.

There’s no stopping the tsunami of lust what he said set in motion. I pick up my tempo again and raise the hand that made him come undone to his face. I slide three fingers into his mouth and Kobe starts sucking them obediently, closing his eyes like he wholly enjoys it.

And just like that, I feel my own pleasure rising to the boiling point. Everything about this scene. Everything about what’s happening in this room, what he’s letting me do, whatI’mdoing.

It feels right. So damn right.

Freeing. Honest. Like nothing has felt in years.

Opening my mouth, I breathe sharply, allowing the building pressure to mount and feeling it with my whole being. I hang my head back, crying out softly with the last deep thrust inside Kobe. I don’t have to watch myself, or act or do anything for anyone else. I’m allowed to enjoy the pure ecstasy buzzing through my fingertips and be completely engrossed in it without worrying about other people’s pleasure and perception.

I feel so fucking good I nearly black out.

With a blink, we’ve both collapsed on the bed next to each other, shaking from exhaustion, sticky with sweat and catching our breaths.

Blinking slowly, I turn my head to Kobe. He’s already watching me, studying me, with the same care as he always does. “Did…did you come again?” I ask when I notice how much he’s still trembling, and that he probably should be calmer by now if he hasn’t.

Kobe smiles widely before facing away with an embarrassed chuckle. He flops his arm tiredly over his face. “Never had a dry orgasm before,” he says, sounding somewhere between impressed and dumbfounded.

I give him a sympathetic look. “They’re weird.”

“Felt nice, but…I’m kind of wiped,” he says, laughing.

Was I too intense?

“Otherwise, you’re okay?” I ask. Now that everything has gotten out of my system, I’m starting to return to earth. Like I’m seeing clearly again, guilt and worry quickly come to focus. Looking back on what I just did feels strange. Uncomfortable, almost. Like it wasn’t really me.

“I’m fine,” Kobe says calmly, sounding genuine enough, and he immediately notices my unease. He pushes himself up to rest against the headboard and reaches for the blanket, yanking it from under him to cover our lower bodies. “You don’t need to worry about me, Apollo.”

I think he’s telling the truth. So why can’t I stop feeling like I did something wrong?

“Okay,” I mutter, pulling up the blanket. I liked what we did. It felt good. Actually, no—muchmorethan good.

“I’m just…a little confused about…this. What it is, really,” Kobe says, darting his eyes away right when I look back at him.

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