Page 60 of Bounced!

I pulled back, then drove in again and again, faster and harder each time.

His pants grew shallower. His knuckles whitened.

I pulled his legs up over my shoulders, getting a better angle.

He sucked in a breath. His abs clenched.

I slammed into him, hard and deep.

The bed creaked.

The headboard smacked the wall.

He gasped and shouted, “Fuck, Dante!”

I didn’t stop. I pounded Mark Delgado till sweat coated my chest and dripped into his fur.

He spread himself wide, taking me in.

“Dante, damn it, deeper! Fuck me harder, baby. Make me yours!”

I ground my teeth and shoved myself into him.

He was sweating now, every muscle taut, his eyes squeezed shut. His hands left the pillows to grip my arms. He squeezed so hard I knew I’d have marks. I didn’t care. I fucked him harder and deeper.

“God, yes, Dante. I fucking want you, baby. Nobody but you.”

“Mark, fuck, I want you, too.”

I grabbed his cock and began to stroke him.

He shivered.

“If you keep . . . Dante . . . stop . . . God . . . fuck—”

I shoved harder, feeling that familiar rush, a million suns lighting the sky.

“Mark, I’m so close.”

“Do it, Dante. I’m coming. Fucking fill me, baby. I’m so yours. Only yours.”

The first of his cum spit past my hand and up my arm. I shoved deep inside him and stroked another out of him, then another. Then my own ecstasy broke free, and, against all reason, I filled Mark Delgado with every hope and dream, every longing and desire, with everything I’d held back for two fucking years.

Chapter 20

Mark

For a long time, neither of us said anything. It was the best silence of my life.

I was lying on my back with Dante half on top of me, which was a lot of man to have half on top of you. I didn’t move him because I couldn’t have if I’d tried, and because, honestly, I didn’t want to. His head was on my chest, in the wet gray of it, one arm thrown across me, one leg between mine. Every time I breathed, I felt his weight rise and settle. The ceiling fan turned slowly overhead, cooling the sweat coating both of us. I lay there in the wreckage of my own bed, happier than I had any right to be.

“I can hear your heart,” he said after a while. His voice came out rough and low, the voice of a man who’d been shouting a little.

“That’s because you nearly stopped it.”

“Mm.” I felt him smile against my skin. “You held up better than I thought you would.”

“I was magnificent.”