Page 55 of The Storm

Like I’m his.

I grip his ass cheeks, pulling them apart. He makes sounds in the back of his throat, desperate, needy sounds. The head of his cock nudges the underside of my balls, and I strain closer.

He’s strong and hard and unyielding above me. It turns me on in a way I didn’t expect. Didn’t know it was possible.

His lips are still on mine. I arch, and our cocks brush again. He starts rocking into me, still holding my hands trapped above my head.

His mouth slides from my mouth to my neck, then to the hollow of my throat.

He sucks, and I buck up wildly.

The heat has been building up for a while, but it was manageable before. Now it’s overwhelming.

“Nick,” I gasp. Plead. Fire ravages through my veins. And still, it builds.

He shoves his hand between us and takes hold of my cock. He jerks it, fast and loose, and bites down on the side of my neck, teeth sinking into the sensitive spot.

I sob out my release as I come in a blinding rush, drifting in the blissful sensation for a few seconds before I sag to the floor.

“Fuck,” Nick gasps into my ear. He sucks the lobe between his teeth and bumps his hips into mine, his hard cock rubbing into my softening one.

Then he’s coming too. Warmth pools against my cock.

He slumps on top of me.

We lie like that for a long time. Every now and then he kisses my neck. Every time, it’s unexpected. Every time, I shiver.

When we finally peel ourselves off each other and get up, I make a face. We were already sweaty and dirty before, and now there’s cum added to the equation. Pulling my jeans up will suck ass.

He turns on the flashlight for a moment and tugs his shirt over his head. My mouth goes instantly dry at the sight of his back. The light from the phone is uneven when he moves around, but I can easily trace the line of his spine and the smooth edges of his shoulder blades. The faint sheen of sweat on his skin. He shifts and the muscles in his back bunch and move.

I stare. Unabashedly.

He pushes his pants down and steps out of them.

I stare even more.

His ass is… It’s so firm it looks like it’s been carved out of stone. The curve of his lower back just above his buttocks looks so smooth I want to touch it and check.

He finds another bottle of water, sticks the shirt between his arm and side, and twists the cap off.

“Take off your shirt,” he says as he turns around.

I snap my eyes up from his cock and blink at him, and he waits until I grab the hem of the shirt and pull it over my head. Then I watch him splash half the water on his shirt. He comes and stands in front of me. And starts to wash me.

The wet fabric is cool when it comes into contact with my skin, and my stomach muscles tighten for a moment from the surprise.

He wipes the shirt over my chest and pecs. Over my shoulders. Arms. My stomach.

“Turn,” he says softly.

I do what he says in a daze. He cleans my back.

The feel of the cool cloth and being clean and not hot and sweaty is heaven. I let out a breath. My shoulders drop. He cleans my armpits, and a groan escapes my lips.

He stills for a breath.

His lips press a kiss to my nape.