Iced Out (Leighton U #1)(83)

My train of thought causes me to falter for a split second, my movements stuttering before returning to normal again.

A throbbing ache weighs down my balls, and I realize this is turning me on just as much as it is him. I’m all kinds of keyed up, and the need to be inside him is dire.

Ripping my body away from him, I grab for the lube in my bedside table and quickly coat my cock with it. He watches me over his shoulder, ass still in the air and a sinful, lusty look in his eyes, only making me want him more.

With absolutely zero finesse, I line myself up with his hole, slipping through the rim with ease, and tunnel home until I’m bottomed out inside him.

A soft groan comes from Quinn at the same moment I let out a sigh of relief.

As great as sex is with him, all hot and explosive, one of my favorite parts is the first time I enter him completely. The sighs that come from him, the way his ass grips and clenches around me as he adjusts to my size. There’s nothing like it.

Sometimes, I almost want to be on the receiving end of it.

And there it is again, another thought causing my movements to stumble, only this time, I power through, thrusting into him like it’s the last thing I might ever do.

“Yes, yes, yes,” Quinton chants as I pound into him, my pelvis colliding with his ass as I impale him with my cock. The slap of our bodies meeting merged with his moans and my pants create the perfect, filthy mixtape that I want to play on a loop in my head.

I can tell he’s almost there, ready to explode, with the way he bears down on my length when the crown brushes over his prostate. He’s this close to shoving me off the edge with him.

“Fuck, babe. Keep squeezing me like that and this won’t last much longer.”

“I’m counting on it,” he says with another groan, fingers digging into the comforter beneath him. “Fill me with your cum, baby. I want every last drop.”

Fucking hell.

I love that damn mouth of his almost as much as I love him.

Realization slams into me like a freight train, flipping my entire world on axis. Enough to have me skidding to a stop mid thrust, lodged halfway inside Quinn’s quaking body so I can rewind to the last few words that almost zipped through my thoughts unnoticed.

I love him.

Three words, as simple as they might be, complicate everything the second my brain thinks them. Because now that I’ve made this realization…I can’t unknow it. I can’t pretend all the secrets and stolen moments don’t mean anything to me anymore.

As problematic as it is, they mean fucking everything.

And instantly, everything snaps into place.

“What are you doing?” he practically screeches, eyes flaring with anger from being pulled back right from the edge of release.

But I had to stop us if there’s any chance of this going how I want to tonight. Which is something I didn’t know I even wanted until right now.

Epiphanies are a funny thing.

“We’re stopping,” I pant, swiping the bead of sweat rolling down my cheek with the back of my hand.

“I can see that,” he says through gritted teeth, baring them a little at me. “The question is why?”

I pull out of him and urge him to flip onto his back beneath me.

He must think I’m wanting to change positions from the lusty grin crossing his face, but when I pull away as he goes to reach for my cock, his brows draw together again.

“What’s going on, Oak?”

I take a deep breath and utter a sentence I never thought I’d speak.

“I want you to fuck me.”





Twenty-Nine

Quinton

“What?” I ask, not sure if I heard him right. Because I swear to God, Oakley, who might be the most top guy I’ve ever met, just asked me to—

“Fuck me, Quinn.”

Yeah, that.

Holy mother of shit.

I gape at him from my place on the bed, unclear how to respond when this has never been on the table for him. It’s not something we’ve ever discussed, and honestly, I’ve been fine with keeping it the way we have.

But apparently the guy who loves nothing more than following the rules is looking to throw every fucking one of them out tonight, leaving me stunned silent.

He doesn’t wait for me to respond, grabbing the lube from the other side of the bed and dousing my cock with it. A soft sigh leaves me as he strokes me from root to tip, getting me impossibly hard before climbing over me and straddling my waist.

And just like that, I’m brought back to reality. Nervous energy floods me, and I grab his jaw, forcing him to meet my gaze.

“Have you ever—”

“Once,” is all he says before he reaches behind him with one hand, the other resting on my chest for balance. A brief flicker of pain crosses his face when he must slip a finger or two past his rim. My chest aches at the sight of it. But soon enough, pleasure takes over his features before he abruptly stops to position my cock at his entrance

I can tell from the set of his jaw, he’s about to sink down on me without a second thought, but I stop him before he does. My hands latch onto his waist, holding him in a hover over me.

“Shouldn’t we talk about this?”

He shakes his head. “No talking, Quinn. I promise, I want this.”

Something in his expression is unreadable, but there’s one thing I can tell with absolute certainty. He’s telling the truth.