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I am parched. I can’t even respond. I just grunt and give a minuscule nod.
Yeah, Eli. I’ll get right to it after I can fucking move. You turned me to jelly. I’ve lost all coordination.
What would sex be like with this guy?
I’d be reduced to ash.
CHAPTERFIVE
ELLIOT
It is official. I’ve had some kind of stroke. I told myself I wasn’t going to get involved with him. But not only did I grab Luke’s dick at laser tag, I also jerked him off…in my kitchen…against the wall.
And the worst part? I enjoyed it.
Luke is napping in my bed after cleaning up his mess, and I just shift on my feet, not wanting to get into bed with him because then I might hump him. I should have just kicked him out of my house right after he came, but he looked so dazed and tired.
So, I let him lie down for a bit, and now he’s asleep. Just like I knew he would be. This man cannot stay awake to save his life.
I huff in frustration.
Damn him for being so wonderfully submissive. You would never guess just by looking at this hulking man that he’d be into giving up control, but he enjoyed it. He loved me telling him what to do.
I pace and press my hand against my groin. There is no way I am falling asleep now. I will be awake for hours if I don’t get off. And I’m not about to do it next to Luke. I’m not that desperate.
Lies. I’m exactly that desperate.
But the rational part of my brain is still functioning. So instead, I move into the guest bedroom and lock the door.
This is what I’ve been reduced to––secretly masturbating alone in the dark, like a delinquent.
I sit down on the edge of the bed and press my fingers to my temples, breathing deeply through my nose. I will the ache away, but it only builds. It’s been way too long since I’ve opened up to anyone. Since I’ve fucked anyone.
It’s showing.
I’m wanton and needy, and it’s making me reckless.
There’s nothing to be done but to give in to it.
I flip onto my stomach and slide a pillow between my legs.
That insatiable ache is right between my thighs, and I thrust my hips forward, biting down on my lip to muffle any grunts I make. It would be just my luck for Luke to wake up from his slumber and hear this. I stuff another pillow against my face and arch my hips repeatedly until I feel myself cresting.
And I will never, ever admit it, but I imagine Luke the entire time––Luke underneath me, Luke writhing as I fuck into him, Luke submitting to me and giving in to all my desires.
With one final thrust, I push myself over the edge and then roll onto my back, panting. My chest heaves as I brush a hand over my damp forehead.
“Fuck,” I mutter because it didn’t help.No, it only made it worse.
I need to do it again.
So, I do.
Goddamn, I am so screwed.
* * *
My shirt is unbuttoned when Luke strides into my closet half-naked the next morning. His chest is still wet from the shower, his boxers practically glued to his thighs. And I see his cock straining toward me. It’s almost like it’s reaching out to shake my hand.
