Pretty Boy (Perfect Boys #1) - K.M. Neuhold Page 0,79
pleasure. He digs his fingers into my arms so hard I’m sure they’ll bruise as I bounce faster, fucking myself with his cock until he lets out a strangled cry, arching up against me.
I throw my head back and shout, the feeling of his cock pulsing inside me, his cum filling me up, sending me over the edge. I grind myself down hard one more time as my orgasm crashes over me, my cum painting Sterling’s belly and chest, a few strands shooting so far they land on his throat. It’s filthy and beautiful and so fucking perfect. Just like my boy.
I find his lips again, kissing him deep and hard as we writhe together, lost in our shared pleasure.
I rock against him long after my orgasm fades, reluctant to give up the deep ache of his cock buried inside me or the connection between our bodies. But eventually his cock softens and slips out, so I climb off of him, unfastening the cock ring and tossing it aside, just like our discarded clothes.
I pull my boy into my arms, and he rests his head against my chest.
“I love you, Pretty Boy.” I kiss the top of his head, and he tries to snuggle even closer, like he’d crawl inside me if he could.
“I love you,” he whispers back.
Chapter 25
Sterling
“You look amazing,” Barrett says, tilting my head up and pressing a kiss to my lips after finishing with my bowtie.
I smile against his lips, grabbing for his lapels and pushing onto my tiptoes before he can get away too quick.
“I got you somethin’,” I tell him when we break the kiss.
His eyebrows go up. “You got me something?”
I nod, turning to the dresser tucked in the corner and opening the bottom drawer. I figured he’d never bother to look down there. “It ain’t nothin’ fancy like you got for me,” I warn, handing over the velvety box.
Barrett takes it from me, looking stunned even before he opens it. As soon as he does, his shock turns to more of a mushy, affectionate expression. “They’re little book shaped cufflinks.” He strokes a finger gently over one of them.
“They weren’t expensive.” I don’t want him to get no ideas about me spending all kinds a money. I saved up a couple paychecks, that was all. Ain’t like I got nothing else to do with them since he insists on paying for every-dang-thing.
“I love them.” He slips them into the holes on his sleeves and kisses me again.
“I love you,” I counter, grinning again.
Getting ready for this fundraiser feels like a whole life away from the last one he took me to. I’ve been working with Nolan for weeks to get this all set up so we can get as many donations as possible for Sterling’s Books, which Em and Barrett agreed should be the name of the bookmobiles, no matter how much I protested.
I’m still not crazy about the paparazzi when we get to the venue, but it feels different this time. I’m not here on Barrett’s arm, feeling entirely out of place. Don’t get me wrong: I am on his arm, and I am still a horse in the dang kitchen, but this is mine too now. I made this happen, and I’m doing great things right alongside him.
I dip my head and laugh a little as Barrett rushes me past the photographers and into the building. I picked a place that wasn’t quite as fancy, but still looks nice enough to convince rich people to fork over their cash for a worthy cause.
“Ready to kiss some rich ass?” Barrett whispers, and I chuckle.
“I think I can prob’ly manage it.”
Like last time, we’re approached by folks one after another, but this time Barrett throws me to the sharks, making me take the lead on thanking everyone and talking about how important these libraries are. Of course, he’s there right next to me the whole time, giving me the strength and confidence to do this. No, that ain’t quite right…Barrett didn’t give me confidence or strength, he just showed me how to unlock it and gave me a safe place in his arms to feel vulnerable without all the hurt.
I spot Em across the room and drag Barrett over to him. I laugh out loud when I realize instead of a regular dress shirt under his suit jacket, he’s still wearing a unicorn t-shirt.
He shrugs when he catches me staring. “I t-thought it looked c-cute.”