Gunnar by Aiden Bates & Ali Lyda

Author:Aiden Bates & Ali Lyda [Bates, Aiden & Lyda, Ali]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-02-03T16:00:00+00:00

16

Gunnar

I stumbled into my bedroom, thankfully undisturbed by any other club members. My blood felt like it had been lit aflame in my veins, and my cock was painfully hard in my tight jeans. I fell onto my bed, flat on my back, and palmed my hard-on through the denim.

God. It wasn’t nearly as good as Raven’s slim leg between mine. Or as good as the feeling of his erection pressing against my leg as he rutted against me unselfconsciously. He was so gorgeous beneath me, his pale skin flushed pink as he moved beneath me, constantly wiggling like he had stores and stores of pent-up energy.

And he’d kissed me.

I’d let him. I hadn’t pulled away.

I’d wanted it.

Did he know how few people I’d kissed? Did he know how new this was for me? I hadn’t made out like that since I was a teenager. And somehow, that clothed, juvenile make-out session had gotten me harder, more worked up, than any hookup I’d had in years.

Kissing Raven had awoken something in me. When I looked back on my hookups now, they all felt—perfunctory. I had been going through the motions for a hit of pleasure. And sure, they’d been enjoyable, fun even, but nothing like this. Nothing like this electric attraction I felt for Raven.

I ripped my jeans open just enough to get my cock out. With a sigh of relief, I fisted myself once, twice, enough to take the desperate edge off.

I’d stopped our tryst as soon as his hard cock had pressed against my leg, because I knew I only had so much willpower. Had it gone any further, I didn’t trust myself to stop. The man I’d craved for years had been lying beneath me, willing and ready to give me probably whatever I wanted—honestly, I was proud of myself for stopping it when I did.

And that was the right decision for both of us. This had to be on Raven’s terms, whatever it was. I wouldn’t push him into anything he wasn’t ready for. And I wouldn’t let him push his own boundaries in an attempt to prove himself to me. We’d go slow. I was fine with that. Slow was good. I just had to keep repeating that to myself whenever I got frustrated.

In the privacy of my own room, though, I let myself imagine what might have happened if we hadn’t stopped.

I jerked myself slowly, smearing precum down my shaft. I would’ve gathered his slim body in my arms and deposited him on the bed. He’d have laughed warmly and pulled me on top of him. I ached to hear his quiet, barely there laugh now—wanted it like a strong drink after a hard day. He’d been so focused and gloomy for so long that seeing him smile beneath me had sparked a flame deep inside me.

If we’d continued, I’d want to keep hearing it, so I’d drop kisses on his neck and collarbone, and I’d slide my hands under his shirt. (Shouldn’t have told him to put on clothes before we sat down to watch Bake-Off together.

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