Page 43 of Hot Receiver

I grasp onto his lower lip with my teeth as he backs me onto his bed. I fall onto the plush mattress, sinking into the middle of it, swallowing his moans as he collapses on top of me. The tip of his cock teases my asshole, precum slicking the rim.

“Beg me for my cock.” His eyes gaze down at me.

Flecks of gold glimmer in the depths, the chocolate brown pools overflowing with raw emotions I’ve never seen before.

Emotions he’s never let me see before.

My heart clenches.

What changed? And why?

A dying ember of hope ignites.

Maybe I didn’t fuck this up completely. Maybe there is still a chance for us…

Oh fuck. A chance for what?

Disappointment? Betrayal?

More secrets? More lies?

My gut plummets. My brain is completely fogged with sex and lust, need and hunger. Right now, in this moment, there’s no room for sensibilities or rational thought.

He slides against me, jerking my dick as he thrusts hard into my ass.

I gasp, the familiar and delicious burn engulfing me. Each thrust brings him deeper, connecting us on a level I’d only fantasized about reaching again. I stare up at him, his dark eyebrows knitted together as he studies me right back, like he’s memorizing every inch of my face from the scruff of my five o’clock shadow up to the scar over my right eye and back down to the shape of my mouth.

His eyes drink me in like a man in the desert wandering around for hours who finally finds water.

“Kiss me,” I croak out, bringing his face close to mine. Leaning toward him, I capture his lips with my own, deepening the kiss, wanting to be one with him on every level, in every possible way.

And even though I came here believing we’d never have tomorrow, that our time had passed, right now I find myself clinging to what’s happening between us. Whathappened in that stairwell was nothing compared to this. That was purely carnal. Just fucking.

I figured this would be the same.

It’s not.

My heart leaps into my throat.

It’s everything I never expected it to be.

Everything I wish it wasn’t.

Zak drives into me. I cry out when his cock finds my prostate. He hits it over and over again until the pleasure is so intense, so all-consuming, that I give in to an orgasm that damn near throttles me. Ropes of cum spurt over Zak’s chest. His hips roll against mine, his cock sliding in and out of my ass faster and faster until a low groan erupts from his chest. He spasms, tremors quaking his body as he fills me.

He collapses on top of me, our skin soaked with sweat and sticky with cum. His breath heats my neck, tiny tingles dancing over my skin where he lies against me. I drape an arm over him to hold him close, and for a second, he stills, his breathing even after a few minutes.

But just as I’m about to drift off into a blissful, post-coital nap, he jerks from me and turns away. Startled, I raise myself up onto my elbows in time to watch him head into his bathroom. He doesn’t even look back at me.

I don’t get it.

That was the hottest sex we’ve ever had. Otherworldly hot.

A realization jolts me.

Hot as fuck because it wasus.

He had to feel it, too.

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