Page 97 of Dirty Martini
He narrows his eyes and pushes in another inch. “Oh, fuck you.”
“Is what you’re actively not doing? I can?—”
I laugh against his mouth as he shuts me up with a kiss. He doesn’t fuck me, not really, but does all that tender love-making that I used to think was a load of bull. Not now. Not with the way he’s so carefully treating me, treasuring me, adoring me.The burn lessens the more he thrusts, transforming into this sort of blunt pressure that expands from the tip of my toes to my choked groans. And when he nails my prostate, I nearly black out.
“Just like that. Fuck.” I moan when he pulls all the way out, only to slam back into me a second later. “You’re fucking me so well. That thick cock is driving me crazy.”
“Next time, I’m fucking you with your glasses on. Your hat too. Make you bounce on my dick,” he growls as his digs his nails into my thigh and yanks my leg higher up his waist.
I can tell that the gentleness is gone now. Instead, it’s replaced with the kind of feral rage we started with. Uncontrollable desire. Desperate tension. A flame that grew too bright that we simply poured more gasoline on. The wet sounds of our fucking mix beautifully with the music in the background, a symphony of euphoria I’ll play on repeat in my mind.
“I don’t think I’m going to last,” he finally pants, dropping his face into the crook of my neck.
I know he’s close. I can tell by that tight clench in his jaw, how his movements grow sloppy and erratic. Wrapping my hand around my cock, I urge myself on, chasing that high. “Me neither. Together?”
Jerking his head in a nod, he slaps my hand away, taking over my cock and my pleasure. It only takes a few moments, a few calculated swivels of his hips, and a few tugs before we’re both crashing into each other. He collapses on top of me, smothering me with his weight. I can barely breathe, but I welcome it. His warm presence, his hot cum leaking out of me, the way we fit perfectly together.
“I love you so much,” I whisper, kissing his damp forehead.
He props his chin on my chest, eyes dazed as he gives me a lopsided smile. “Do you think you’ll ever get tired of saying it?”
I shake my head. “Never.”
Because Everest was mine to hate and now he’s mine to keep.
Epilogue
EVEREST
“Why can’tI get any fucking service here?”
I laugh at Knox’s aggravated tone. We haven’t been standing in front of the bar for more than two minutes and he’s already pissy.
I sling an arm around his shoulder, shaking him a bit. “Some patience would be nice.”
He scoffs. “Why don’t you get your boyfriend to come over here and serve us?”
It’s at that moment that Rhys finally spots us. I’d like to think that the way his face splits into a grin as he approaches is entirely because of me. It’s sure as fuck not because of Knox. He saunters up, handsome as fucking ever, completely drool worthy. I swoon when he winks at me, leaning over the bar as he speaks. “What can I get you?”
I wet my lower lip, doing that fluttery thing with my eyelashes that I know drives him crazy. “Can I get two Barebacks, please?”
He feigns indecision, rubbing his chin before a devious smirk works its way to his lips. “I don’t know. What are you willing to put out for them?”
Instead of answering him, I surge forward, biting down on his bottom lip, soothing the sting with my tongue right after. He groans—loud and heady—and the sound goes straight to my cock.
“Fucking. Barf.”
Rhys growls, turning his head to look at my best friend with severe annoyance. “Knox. Always a displeasure.”
“Fuck off, Conway,” Knox snaps, biting down on his lip ring.
I roll my eyes. So fucking childish. “Be nice, you two.”
Knox doesn’t seem to want to play nice, and I don’t blame him when Rhys isn’t too keen on doing that either. He squeezes my hips, giving Rhys one last vicious look. “Come find me when you have our drinks, babe.”
Rhys watches him walk away, and if looks could kill, Knox would be decomposing as we speak. “If he calls you babe one more time?—”
“I think he does it now just to get a rise out of you,” I tease, poking his arm.
