Page 126 of The Incredible Ordinary

Give me everything you’ve got. I want it all. Take me. Use me. Do whatever you want.

I chicken out.

I’ll work up to it.

He gets up on his knees and pushes his underwear down his hips and off his legs before he settles back on top of me. His cock juts up, long and hard, demanding all my attention.

It’s not that I’ve never seen another guy’s dick before, but the need to touch one is new.

My stomach tightens with anticipation as I watch him stroke himself. His head falls back and his eyes shut for a moment before they settle on me again. He keeps stroking himself while gifting me with one of those heated looks that makes me feel more exposed than I ever have in my life.

I push my hips up, rubbing the head of my cock against his thumb, arching into the touch with a shameless groan.

“Shh,” Milán whispers with a chuckle.

“You shh,” I pant back, which makes him laugh harder, but he sobers quickly when I cup my own dick.

He pats my hand away with a possessive air. It makes me shiver with need.

“Want to try something?” He quirks a brow.

I nod and lick my lips, waiting.

He leans forward and grips the headboard. His warm, bare cock brushes mine. My hips automatically push up, seeking more. More friction. More pressure.

His eyes stay on me as he spits into his palm, and as he wraps his fingers around my dick. His hand is slick and warm as it slides up and down my length with a firm stroke.

My eyes roll back while the back of my head hits the headboard with athump.

My blood feels like molten lava sliding through my veins. Pleasure makes my brain feel sluggish.

He’s not done with me.

He moves forward and lines up our lower bodies. My cock brushes against his again right before Milán pushes them together, fisting them in his hand before he goes back to stroking.

“Oh, fuck,” I whisper. Looking at what he’s doing to me—to us—is almost too much, but I can’t not look. It’s the single hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life. I nearly come from just the sight.

His hand is large, skin warm, grip tight. His fingers are long, strokes firm. The skin of his cock is velvet-soft and the feel of it against my own is stupidly hot.

He sends me a crooked smirk before he lowers his head and a string of spit trickles down onto the head of my cock from between his lips. Everything gets even slicker.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I pant, toes curling.

He laughs. His hand moves up and down, up and down. My hips pick up the rhythm as I push into his fist with increasing desperation. I’m close, but not close enough. Reaching for a release that’s just out of reach. Wound tight and aching.

I’m so fucking hard that I’m dizzy with it.

He’s taking me apart, bit by bit, and then putting the pieces back together.

I want it.

I’mintoit.

That’s an understatement.

It feels like I’m about to die.

He pants harshly, his movements growing clumsier, faster. Something about the way he curses when he loses his hold on us makes it all even better.