IRL: In Real Life (After Oscar, #1)(60)

I pressed my hips back into his dick, begging for it. His hands were like those of a conductor’s, sure and precise, urging the rhythm of our joining to bend to his will.

And I was an eager player, desperate to stay in line and give him my absolute best.

“Open for me,” Wells murmured against my back. His slick fingers teased my hole, and I did my best to relax against them. “That’s it. Just like that.”

I tried pressing back against them, but he barked out a command for me to stay still. The ferocious tone of his voice made my cock pulse with precum. It drooled from my tip down toward the pristine bedding. I moved to stroke myself, but Wells’s hand came around to grip my wrist and stretch it back above my head on the bed.

“No touching. That’s mine tonight. Understand?” He squeezed it hard to make his point before letting it go and moving his hand back to my ass.

“Yes… sir,” I gasped, wishing like hell it wasn’t just for tonight. “Yours.”

“Mm, good. Now stay still while I stretch this tight hole of yours.”

“Nngh.”

His fingers worked my channel in and out while his other hand smoothed up and down my back with an almost reverent touch.

I’d never felt such frenzy to get someone inside of me before. It was almost like worrying if I didn’t get him inside me now, I’d miss my chance for ever and ever. And I needed him. Needed him so much, it scared me. Something about this encounter wasn’t simply a hookup. What had started out as a one-night stand felt monumental. And that was nonsensical.

Supposedly Wells Grange was a glacier. Cold and calculated. He had walls in front of his walls. The man was known for being stoic and distant, unfeeling and brutal.

Yet here he was worshipping my body as if it was the most exquisite treasure he’d ever laid eyes on. His voice was firm and demanding, but his lips were passionate, his hands gentle, and his soft breaths against my skin soothing and encouraging.

I tried to stop feeling so desperate and frenzied. Instead, I closed my eyes and focused on every nerve ending he was stimulating. His hands were on my ass, my lower back, my hips. His lips were on my spine, the kisses punctuated by little tastes with his tongue and nibbles with his teeth.

When he slid a second and third finger into me, it made me desperate again. I wanted his cock, not his fingers.

“Wells,” I begged. “I can’t… I… please.”

“So patient. So sweet,” he whispered. “You ready for my cock?”

I couldn’t think, couldn’t respond. I was a writhing mass of need to come, need to come. When the blunt tip of his covered cock pressed against me, a guttural groan of relief escaped. My body grabbed for him even though the stretch made me hiss. Wells stopped for a beat to let my body adjust before pressing on. And oh dear god it felt amazing. The humid heat of his body against my back. The thick stretch of his cock thrusting into my ass. The smooth, cool whisper of the sheet against my cheek. The sounds of our rapid breathing swirling around the room. The feel of his large hand clamped firmly around both of my wrists high above my head.

“Fuck, Conor. So tight, so hot. Your body’s like heaven.” The words were almost slurred in pleasure, and hearing him start to lose control was even more of an aphrodisiac than everything else he was doing to me.

It was my deepest fantasies made real. Being held down and fucked hard by a powerful man—by this man—while I lay there and took it. It was too much.

“Shit, gonna come,” I cried.

“No.”

“Huh?” I gasped. “But I—”

“Do. Not. Come.”

The commanding tone was almost enough to push me over, but the desire to please him held me back. I squeezed my eyes closed and tried to talk myself off the ledge. I thought of terrible things, disgusting things, but nothing helped. The man inside of me was going to get me off without a single touch to my dick.

“Wells,” I chanted. “Wells, I don’t think—”

His thrusts sped up until I felt his hand let go of my wrists and move to my throbbing cock. The moment his fingers closed around me, I wanted to cry out with ecstasy. I let out a choked moan, the feel of him so perfect. So absolute.

His, I thought. I was his.

“Come for me, baby,” he rumbled behind my ear, stroking me twice before I exploded with a scream. My breath completely left my body as my balls continued to empty all over the bed and his hand.

“That’s it. Fuck, that’s hot. Give me more.” Wells’s words were strangled. He continued to stroke the last of my cum out until I felt him tremble and thrust hard one last time, calling out my name and holding me tightly to him with a strong arm across my chest.

I felt the pulse of his release inside me and squeezed in response, eliciting an extra gasp out of him. When we were both done, spent and sweaty on the formerly crisp bedding, Wells snorted softly. “Well, I can’t say that was unexpected exactly… but… fuck. That was unexpected.”

I couldn’t cogitate my brain enough to form a word, so I just grunted in acknowledgment.

“You… god, Conor.”

He sounded so pleased, so sated. I reveled in his admiration and tried to hold on to the feeling even when he grasped the condom and pulled out.

“Stay there,” he said with the return of his bossy tone. I smiled into the bedding. As if I was going anywhere. He’d be lucky to get me to leave by the weekend.