Just Like That - Cole McCade Page 0,57

the shape of Fox’s cock, sliding into him in a slick slow glide that thrust his voice up from inside his chest to pour out his throat, his lips, in gasping, broken cries as he opened his body for Fox and rose up to meet him, locking his thighs around his hips, pulling him in, struggling to make himself more and more open for Fox if only because he wanted to feel him everywhere inside, desperate for it with a wanton and shameless need. Fox’s cock was a heady burn inside him, a weight that flowed so hard, remaking Summer in the image of his own desperate pleasure.

God, Summer was in so deep, his heart on fire...

And he needed Fox to be in deep, too.

Needed to feel flesh become desire, needed to feel the two of them moving together, and as he crashed into Fox and Fox sank into him, their mouths met once more and hot breaths traded between, rushed and yet completely in synch, completely together in the urgency that made them thrust and writhe, shudder and grasp, moving together. Slow at first—so slow, Fox’s breaths wet against his neck, his back arching in serpentine flexes of musculature under Summer’s fingers, the grasping and relaxing pressure on Summer’s throat seeming to guide the tempo driving them as Fox thrust into him again and again with a sort of controlled animalism, power and strength held in perfect rein as if he wanted to torture Summer with every suffering moment when Fox withdrew—until there was a void inside Summer that left his heart breaking for Fox, the only point of connection left that shivering feeling where the flared head of Fox’s cock spread Summer open so wide at the most tender, sensitive point of his entrance.

And as if he wanted to reward Summer with that pleasure of fulfillment again, of flesh kissing to flesh inside him and making sweet sensation ripple down his inner thighs and course over his body like a crashing flood, points of pleasure igniting in the pit of his stomach, in the flutter of his pulse against Fox’s palm, in the tingling ache of lips that begged for another taste...

...in the wondrously tight pain of his body stretching, wrapping around Fox’s cock, needing it when he was so burnt up inside, this feeling almost wrong when every time Fox sank deep it was like he was piercing some inner vulnerability that Summer had never allowed anyone else to touch.

Anyone else but Fox.

Fox made him wild, as those thrusts came faster—that strength slowly slipping its leash until their bodies came together hard, bruising force slamming rough sounds from both their throats, trading them in hot, grasping kisses. Every time Fox sank into him harder, harder, Summer nearly screamed, clutching his thighs against Fox’s waist, inner muscles twitching, jerking, gripping as he rose up to meet him. Again and again, every moment more fragile, more unbearable, rising to a fevered and quivering pitch, moving in racing tandem to tumble ever closer and closer to that unbearable edge of pleasure.

Tumble closer...

And spill over, breaking to the point of shattering.

Summer wrapped his fingers around his cock. He was so fucking hot, so wet with pre dripping over his flesh in burning runnels, its scent part of this simmering smoky miasma of lust enveloping them. He squeezed his cock and cried out against Fox’s lips, his entire body answering with a hard clench that made him lock tighter still around Fox, tearing a wicked, rough growl from Fox’s throat—and earning Summer a deeper, harsher thrust that tore over him in a battering rush. Again and again, matching his stroking rhythm to Fox’s gasping, growling, searing thrusts, tightening deeper inside, loving every suffering moment when he made Fox snarl and punish him again and again until they fought each other to slam their bodies together, to meet with every driving thrust.

Hotter, building hotter still, tightening up inside, tension winding deeper and deeper—until he was locking around Fox’s cock. Until Fox was snarling out his name. Until his back shuddered under Summer’s fingers, and his hips jerked, his cock writhing hotly inside Summer, and Summer was stroking just a little harder, a little faster, and then—

Cracking. Splitting. Crumbling. Ripping apart. As if the burst of his climax was a thing of sheer destruction that shredded him apart from the inside out, savaging him with claws of pleasure, every hard-knotting spurt from his cock making him clench even more convulsively around Fox in little