Page 78 of No Hope of Rescue

“You know my favorite part of a man?”

“Any man? How about something a little more personal—Oh!”

She’s got one hand on my chest, pressing down hard, while the other snaked its way to my groin and wrapped around my penis.

She rubs the tip with her palm. She scoots my feet further apart with hers so I’m not so tall and then slides the hand from my chest to my throat, tilting my head back. My weight is against her now, and I’m in her arms.

“That’s just how I want to see you right now.”

I have to grip the sink as she starts to stroke me, and I quiver under her touch. She seems to feel every muscle, her other hand running lightly over my pecs, abs, groin, and then down, from behind, to cup my testicles, which are so high and tight.

Fingernails scrape there and they harden even more.

The hall light is enough for us to see each other in the mirror. I start to take her hand from my chest.

“Stop,” she whispers. “Let me do what I want.” She turns me around to face her, pushes me against the sink, and I’m half-afraid it will tear from the wall.

“Riley. Oh. My. God” is about all I can manage as she sinks to her knees.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Riley Delgado

I have to plant my legs firmly. When I nudge Brock’s legs apart, I know he has no idea what I’m up to.

Until I touch his prick.

His entire torso shudders for a moment, and I’m so glad I tipped him back so I can feel my touch ripple through his muscles and then to me. His head leans over my left shoulder, and a deep moan begins in his throat. I can watch him in the mirror. It allows me distance to do things I might normally be embarrassed to do.

His ass clenches as I continue stroking. Light dances over his chest and ribs, and when he grips the sink, all the muscle in both arms clench. He is perfection.

I have him.

When I turn him around, his eyes are heavy lidded and his hair, still wet, is tousled from finger combing. His throat and chest are hot to the touch.

When I kneel down, he grips the sink from behind, tries to curve forward to see me, but he can’t control himself. In a futile moment, he arches back, spasming.

The whole time, I’m oblivious of myself, something I’m not used to. There is no self to be conscious of. I am free of that.

When he’s about to come, I stop, stand, and let my robe slowly slide to the ground.

Still gripping the sink, he gasps. His arms shake, and his flat stomach is beating with a fast pulse. He tries to look at me to get his bearings.

But I want him lost. I turn away, take him by the hand, and lead him to my bedroom.

The candles are all lit, casting both soft yellow light and even softer shadows that move and undulate with air currents.

He takes me, kisses me. “I want to be inside you, Riley. I want to be with you every morning, every evening, and all the moments in between.”

I push him to sit on the end of the bed and slowly work the sweatpants down over his engorged penis. It stands upright, beating to his heart.

I straddle him and let him feel my wetness slide over his lower abdomen before gently settling on his prick. Within seconds, he’s making me even wetter.

He lies back in the pillows, and I take his shirt and wrap it loosely around his wrists.

“Your turn,” I whisper in his ear, my arms draped over his.

His entire body shudders twice. Skin slides over muscle and bone as he stretches further up and grabs the headboard. He knows what I want. I know what I want. For once. This time, I’m not afraid to ask. I slide down to one side and cock a leg over his stomach. Reaching around, I lift his chest with one hand and shove a pillow behind him.