Page 18 of Faking It Right
That revelation should have shut things down, but instead, it sent a pulse of arousal straight to my dick. The image of Harley getting off while thinking of me was unexpectedly hot, especially since I had a vivid mental image of him climaxing while moaning my name from last week.
“Still think you’re straight?” Harley taunted.
I was close enough to the edge of orgasm that plausible deniability had packed its bags and left. “I think I’m fucked.”
He cupped his free hand against the back of my neck and pulled me closer. The show of domination was such a shocking turn-on that my head felt like it was spinning faster than a tilt-a-whirl at a carnival.
“Oh, we’ll get to that, snookums.” He sealed his promise with another scorching kiss that made me whimper with confused need.
My reaction baffled me, but with his lips on mine, the “why” felt as irrelevant as last week’s leftovers. All I knew was that I craved more of him.Desperately.
Oh, well. Being straight was overrated, anyway.
His tongue slid against mine as his hand sped up, pushing me closer to the edge. My hips jerked, seeking more friction. I was embarrassingly close already, my body trembling with the effort to hold back.
“Don’t fight it,” Harley whispered against my lips. “Let go for me.”
His command broke something inside me. With a strangled cry I muffled against his shoulder, I came harder than I ever had in my life, my cum spurting up to my chest as evidence of how much I enjoyed the experience. My vision blurred at the edges as pleasure crashed into me like a car through a brick wall. Harley worked me through it, his strokes gentling as I shuddered in the aftermath.
“Holy shit,” I panted, my forehead resting against his shoulder as I tried to remember how to breathe.
Harley chuckled, the sound reverberating through his chest. “Well worth the wait.”
I became acutely aware I was still holding his dick, which remained hard and insistent in my grip. Guilt and determination surged through me. I couldn’t leave him hanging after he gave me an incredible orgasm.
“Your turn,” I said, pulling back enough to meet his gaze. His pupils were blown wide with desire, leaving only a thin ring of blue around the edges.
“You don’t have to?—”
“I want to,” I interrupted, surprising myself with how true it was.
Focusing entirely on him, I stroked him with renewed purpose. My hand, which had always seemed perfectly adequate for myown equipment, suddenly felt like I was trying to wrap my fingers around a water bottle after a lifetime of using a marker.
His breathing hitched as I swiped my thumb over his tip, spreading the precum that had gathered there. The way he responded to my touch was intoxicating, his substantial girth requiring me to adjust my grip in ways I’d never considered for myself.
“Like this?” I asked, mimicking the twist he’d used on me, though it felt like using bonsai techniques on a redwood.
“Fuck, yes,” he groaned, his head falling back. “Just like that.”
Emboldened by his reaction, I pressed my lips to his neck to savor the salt on his skin. His pulse raced beneath my mouth as I sucked lightly, careful not to leave a mark that would raise eyebrows and earn relentless teasing at dinner.
Meanwhile, my wrist was getting the workout of its life. I’d probably wake up tomorrow with forearm muscles I didn’t know existed. If jerking him off counted as strength training, I’d be bench-pressing cars by next week.
“Ryker,” he gasped, his hand gripping my shoulder tightly. “I’m close.”
Something primal and possessive surged through me at his words. I wanted to be the one to make him lose control, even if handling his impressive endowment made me feel like I was working a hefty rolling pin compared to my usual wooden spoon.
Chapter Six
HARLEY
I couldn’t believewhat was happening. My straight best friend I’d been crushing on for three years was jerking me off. His grip was tentative but eager, his fingers wrapped around my cock with a curiosity that made my hips buck into his touch. “Fuck, I never thought you’d?—”
“Please stop,” Ryker muttered, his cheeks flushed as he focused on his task. Literally. “Is this how you like it?”
“Yes,” I gasped.
His thumb swiped over my tip, spreading the precum that had gathered there. The sight of his dark hair falling across his forehead as he concentrated on pleasuring me was almost too much to handle. I’d fantasized about this moment countless times, but dreams couldn’t compete with the almost reverent way he looked at me.
