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welcomed it. Wanted more.
44 Ava March
Even as the word  more tumbled from his lips, a portion of his brain reeled in
shock. Stunned that Oliver s prick was in his arse. And doubly stunned it felt so
unbelievably amazing.
Completely drunk on the all-encompassing sensations, Vincent slung his leg
up, shifting so that he was partially on his back, and draped his arm around
Oliver s neck. Oliver palmed Vincent s thigh, pushing his leg up higher, and
dropped his head to brush his lips across Vincent s nipple. Pulling the tip into his
mouth, he thrust even deeper slow, plunging strokes that had Vincent s head
lolling back.
Oliver s grip on his thigh tightened, but he kept his thrusts lusciously slow. A
chunk of his untidy hair had fallen forward to obscure one eye. Vincent s fingers
itched with the need to tuck it behind his ear, to fully expose those beautiful
features he knew so well. Yet every muscle in his body felt completely lax, so
consumed by pleasure he could not have lifted his other arm if he tried.
And then Oliver shifted behind him, and on the next downward thrust, he hit
that spot inside him. The one that made a white-hot surge of lust shoot through
him.
Again and again, the head of Oliver s prick massaged that spot. Ratcheting the
ecstasy drenching his senses. Building it stronger and stronger. Coiling tighter and
tighter, past anything he had ever experienced before.
Vincent struggled to catch his breath, but the effort was in vain. His breaths
hitched, high and sharp, in his chest. His cock ached. Goddamn it, it hurt. He
wanted to grab his prick, but he was& afraid to move. To even shift enough to bring
his hand to his groin. One move and he could lose that absolutely perfect angle of
Oliver s prick. The one that brought the orgasm so close he could taste it.
As if reading Vincent s mind, Oliver s hand slid down his thigh to close around
Vincent s cock.
 Yes. The word ripped from Vincent s throat.
Bound Forever 45
Oliver s grip was almost too rough but at the same time exactly what he
needed. His thrusts turned harder, longer, more demanding. The strokes so deep his
ballocks slapped against him.
Shameless and needing even more, Vincent bumped back. He was right there,
on the very edge, senses poised on the brink, but& Damnation!
Beyond desperate for the climax that frustratingly eluded him, Vincent gazed
up at Oliver.
 Come for me, Vincent, Oliver whispered, those dark eyes boring straight into
his soul.
The orgasm slammed into him, harder and more powerful than a runaway
stagecoach. His hoarse shout echoed in his ears. Seed shot from his cock, splattering
his stomach, as Oliver continued to drive into him, prolonging the climax until
Vincent could only gasp in awe.
As the remnants of that powerful release still thrummed through Vincent s
body, Oliver s hips snapped forward. It felt as though his cock somehow grew
thicker, longer, harder, stretching Vincent s body to its limit. Teeth bared, Oliver let
out a growl, deep and low and unlike anything Vincent had ever heard from him.
Then warmth filled Vincent s passage.
Oliver slumped, his forehead dropping to Vincent s chest. Hot, sticky pants
fanned Vincent s chest, clinging to his sweat-slicked skin. Lazy and slow, and
almost unconsciously, Oliver slid his hand, still wrapped around Vincent s cock, up
to massage the crown. A spasm racked his entire body, abrading his overwrought
nerves, muscles clenching around Oliver s prick, still buried deep.
 Hell! The curse burst from his throat, though the word sounded
embarrassingly much closer to a yelp.
 Sorry, Oliver murmured as he released his hold. He didn t sound the least bit
apologetic. If anything, he sounded smug. Oliver was a man. He damn well knew
how sensitive one was after an orgasm.
46 Ava March
For a long moment, the only sounds that broke the silence were their heavy
breaths. He could feel Oliver softening within him, and then the man s spent prick
slipped from his body. The protest, the need to keep Oliver with him, rose within. So
strong it took all his willpower to keep the plea inside.
The strength of it jolted him harshly to the present. His arse burned, throbbed,
yet it was strangely pleasurable. Hell, his entire body felt sore. He was suddenly
aware he was practically lying in Oliver s arms. And it felt good. So good, he never
wanted to leave.
His gut tightened.
Oliver levered up to lean over Vincent. His dark hair stuck to his temples,
damped with sweat. His cheeks were flushed, his heavily-lidded eyes reduced to
mere slits. The most content smile curved his mouth.  Love you.
The words were whispered against his lips an instant before Oliver s mouth
found his. But the kiss did nothing to vanquish the leaden feeling building in the pit
of his stomach.
Bound Forever 47
Chapter Six
Sprawled on his belly, Oliver kept his eyes closed as the sensations from last
night drifted from his dreams to fill his sleep-logged, barely conscious mind. The
press of Vincent s hard body along his. The sounds of Vincent s hoarse, desperate
moans for more. The urgent thrusts of Vincent s arse against his pelvis as the
orgasm built within his lover. He flexed his hand tucked under his pillow, the
memory of his grip on Vincent s thigh still fresh on his palm.
He had watched Vincent climax countless times, but never like that. Every
line in his powerful body lax yet thrumming with undeniable need. And the look on
Vincent s face when the man s release claimed him absolute bliss, undeniable awe,
and unwavering trust. A look Oliver would never forget. Vincent had completely
given himself over to him, placed his pleasure fully in Oliver s hands. And judging
by the pearly white seed that had coated the man s rock-hard abdomen, Vincent
thoroughly enjoyed the experience.
The smile teasing the edges of Oliver s lips broadened into a sleepy,
triumphant grin.
He felt like a damn god.
He shifted his hips, pulling one knee up toward his side, in an effort to relieve
some of the pressure on his erection trapped between his belly and the mattress. An
erection that just last night had been buried hilt-deep in Vincent s no-longer-virgin
arse.
His own arse tingled with awareness. Need threaded under his skin, seeped
into his veins, building stronger with each passing second. Perhaps he could
convince Vincent to repay the favor.
48 Ava March
He reached out his senses, searching for the heat radiating from Vincent s
body, yet&
Oliver opened his eyes and found the place next to him empty. He levered up
onto his forearms. The white pillow still held the impression from Vincent s head,
and the coverlet was rumpled as though someone Vincent had hastily flung it
back into place after vacating the bed.
He could not recall Vincent getting up. Granted, Oliver had a tendency to sleep
soundly, but Vincent always at least nudged him before he left the room, be it this
room or his bedchamber at his bachelor apartments.
Perhaps the man had simply gone to relieve himself. But& He passed a hand
over the sheets under the coverlet. Not a trace of warmth from Vincent s body. A
glance over his shoulder toward the marble fireplace confirmed his suspicions. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]