Saugatuck Summer (Saugatuck, #1)(18)

Then he stepped back and faced me, commanding my gaze. His hands went down to his fly and slowly, slowly, dragged it open. I looked on raptly, swallowing hard before I wet my lips.

Click.

Startled, I looked back at the camera, which he hadn’t touched. Then I realized he must have programmed it, or maybe he had a little remote, or—

“Don’t worry about that. If you need to stop, say the word and we’ll stop. If not, then just look at me, Topher. Look right at me. Watch me.”

My eyes flew back to his, and the leather slithered down his hips. I let myself relax again. He wasn’t trying to con me into making porn for him. Nothing about this felt skeevy; every inch of him exuded honesty. He just wanted to paint me. That was flattering, really. And the whole picture thing? Kind of hot.

Another click punctuated my soft groan as a dark nest of hair came into view. Then his cock sprang free, thick and dark red and beautiful, and my breath caught in my chest.

Click.

I couldn’t have torn my eyes away from that if I’d wanted to, especially not when his fingers wrapped around it, stroking slowly. More clicks followed, but I barely heard them, barely registered the flashes. I was sweating, shaking. I could hardly breathe. My hips shifted and rocked just the smallest bit in time with each caress he gave himself, as if subconsciously begging his hand to surround my cock instead.

And then the clicking stopped, and his pants dropped the rest of the way to the floor, and Jace strode over to the bed, coming at me hard and fast. He covered me, devouring my lips, plunging his tongue into my mouth like he wanted me to try to deep-throat it.

I grasped him, clung to him, mashed my mouth against his with equal violence. There was nothing in me but wanting. I burned for him, had to have him now, right now. His hand fumbled blindly with the drawer of the bedside table, locating the lube just before I pushed him onto his back and wedged myself between his thighs, taking over the kiss.

He groaned and gave over, going pliant beneath me. I rutted against him, our cocks sliding together, our moans filling each other’s mouths. I hooked an arm under his thigh, pushing his knee up, seeking his crack with my fingers as he made sharp, urgent, encouraging sounds, finally wrenching his mouth away from mine to gasp, “Yes.”

I’d barely worked some of the lube into his hole when he shoved the condoms at me. “Hurry.”

“Seriously?” I lifted my head, gazing at him wide-eyed.

He nodded eagerly. “I like it rough. Do it.”

My hands shook as I rolled the rubber on, and then he was grasping my shoulders, pulling me to him with a bruising grip. I pushed into him and his spine arched. His head rolled back, a growling moan escaping his throat—all details that were nearly lost in how tight and hot he was, gripping my dick.

“Oh, f*ck yeah,” he gasped when I paused for a moment, waiting for his body to unwind, for some of the tension to ebb. “Keep going. Do it. Hard.”

Fuck, I just about came at his words alone. But I did what he asked, driving into him, listening to his howl, underpinned by my own desperate moan. My hips snapped against his, the impact jarring us both, and then I had to stop for my sake or I was going to lose it completely. I buried my hands in his silky, sweat-damp hair and kissed him like I meant to suck his soul out through his lips. I kissed him until he began to wriggle restlessly beneath me, making plaintive sounds.

“Go, Topher. Please. Go. Go.”

Then there was no holding back. Just a headlong charge for the finish line. Just skin slapping against skin, explosive pants and gasps erupting between us, grunts and growls and groans that sounded more animal than human. Our hands scrabbled for purchase on skin too slick with sweat to grasp. Somewhere along the way I reared up, lifting my body off his to drive deeper, ramming into him, keening my imminent loss of control. I barely felt the movements when he grabbed his cock and started stroking, but I sure as f*ck felt the spasms gripping me. They dragged me over that breathless edge into a blinding white abyss.



It took us a few minutes to come back to ourselves. Jace didn’t seem to mind my weight above him, and I certainly had no objections to using him as a pillow, nuzzling his throat, caressing him as the sweat cooled on his skin.

Finally he rolled me off him, onto my back.

“Stay there,” he murmured, removing and discarding the condom for me. I twitched as he arranged my softened cock to lie on my hip, and then bunched the sheet up. No artistic peekaboo drape now. This time it was rumpled and messy, heaped around me.

Another bead of sweat trickled out of my hairline and down my temple, reminding me of one detail.

“My eyeliner—” I lifted my hand to try to wipe away what I was sure was a massive case of raccoon-eye, but he caught my fingers.

“Smudged and perfect, just like it should be after that.”

He curled one of my arms up onto the pillow, beneath my head, and turned my face toward the camera, then rose and stepped behind it. He didn’t do anything to try to make me react this time. He just let me drift in postcoital relaxation, my eyes half-lidded. No doubt I looked completely sex-drunk.

When the clicking stopped, he caught his tongue between his teeth, scanning through the pictures on the view screen before he returned to bed. Then he curled around me, snuggling, kissing my shoulder.

“Did they come out okay?” I suppose I should have been embarrassed by how vain I sounded, but I wasn’t. I liked his obvious admiration. It felt good.