Page 87 of Hot Mess Express
What those words are doing to me…
I smile against his neck. “Who said I won’t make you come again before I do?”
His eyes pop open and his lips part.
Seamlessly, the head of my cock replaces my fingers. While watching the side of his face, I hook my hands under his arms for leverage as I start grinding my hips, working my cock inside him. Anthony’s given up on making any actual words, reduced to just moans and unintelligible nonsense.
“Faster,” he demands.
The boy’s hungry.
I pick up my pace. Anthony is right here with me, the twisting expressions on his face telling me whatever I’m doing is right—and I’d better give him more of it.
“Please, yes,fuck, more!” he groans into the sheets.
I go even deeper. He howls out—and I assume it’s in pleasure, because he doesn’t stop me. By the way, are these walls as paper thin as I predict they are?
The deeper I go, the more his ass presses against me, a literal invitation as I keep pumping him. It isn’t long before everythrust slaps audibly into his ass.
“You slowin’ down?” he throws over his shoulder. “What for? You tuckered out already?”
I pause, staring at the side of his face. “You serious?”
“That all you got? C’mon! Give it to me!”
Is he sure he hasn’t done this before?
I can’t resist a challenge. The more he eggs me on, the harder I go, plowing into him. I grow more aggressive, feeling inspired by his own growls of aggression and animalistic grunting the harder I fuck him.
And every now and then, I lean forward and put a kiss on his ear, because who said romance is dead?
Then I hear a noise. Was that a shout?
Anthony seems to hear it, too, perking his head up. “Oh,” he grunts between my thrusts, apparently realizing what the noise is. He cranes his neck around to shoot me a look. “Did Juni hook up with your pal or somethin’?”
“Huh? Oh.” I’m enjoying reaming his ass so much, it takes my mind a second to catch up. “Yeah. They kinda met at the club.”
“She’s in the room next to mine. I think they’refornicating.”
I snort at his word choice. “‘Fornicating’? Pete and Juniper?”
“We gotta outdo them.”
“What?”
“Outdo them, you heard me. We gotta be louder. Harder. Bang the damned walls to drown them out.”
“What is this?” I ask through a laugh. “A competition?”
“Goddamned right it is.” He reaches around to smack my ass. He misses, unable to reach it, then flops back down onto the bed. “Get goin’, Bridger! Fuck my brains out! I’m so hard, I’m leakin’ all over the bed.”
“Anthony …”
“We’re gonna need to get new sheets. Y’know.” He eyes me over his shoulder. “Callroom serviceor somethin’.”
That tiny bit of attitude seems to be the fuel.
I rise, grip him by the hips, and go to town pumping my dick inside him. Anthony must feel all the difference, because he needs no help letting out his moans of surprise and ecstasy. “F-F-Fuck!” he cries out, his every word cut up into staccato shouts with my powerful thrusts. “D-D-Damn! G-G-God-damn!”
