Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 83109 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83109 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Tripp rubs me in a way that’s indescribable, and no matter how I try to resist, my body melts into a puddle of want. The entire time he rubs and presses, my nerves come alive.
The first digit he pushes inside me is uncomfortable but not painful, and after a few moments of fucking me with it, it starts to feel so good tingles spread across my skin.
The anxious knot in my gut disappears. If I can adjust from pain to pleasure like this, the thought of him rocking inside me like that makes my head spin.
I’ve only ever done the fucking before—and yeah, I want a go at Tripp’s ass—but having someone else inside me is new and different, and something I never even thought to consider. It feels like a bizarre kind of power move for me to be spreading my legs and begging that he fucks me, and I’m completely down with it.
It makes sense that it’s Tripp I’m doing this with.
“Keep relaxed, just like that,” he murmurs and works another finger in. His encouragement is so … Tripp that I don’t even question it. I’m putting all my trust in him, but it’s easy. Because he’s him.
Like last time, there’s the burn, and then it slowly eases away.
I suck another mark onto his skin. “You’re good at this.”
“I’ve had lots of experience.”
I smirk. “I guess we’ve got plenty of time for me to get experienced too.”
He claims my mouth again, getting more confident as he stretches and rubs at places I’ve never realized could be so much fun. My ass is buzzing, and the more he works me open, the more it makes my cock throb. Like it’s a secret agreement between my ass and my balls. When one of us is having fun, we’re all having fun. And goddammit, this is fun.
I start rocking my hips back onto his digits, wanting him deeper, feeling all kinds of filthy and horny and desperate.
“I think it’s time for you to fuck me now,” I say.
“Not yet.”
“Trippy,” I whine. “You’re supposed to love me. Why are you torturing me like this?”
“I haven’t even begun, babe. Ready for the showstopper?”
“The w—” Tripp presses deep, and suddenly, my whole ass lights up. “Ah. Fuck.” I have no idea why my voice is making that noise, but how can I even start to think about that when he’s blowing my brains out?
I’m vaguely aware of a soft chuckle as Tripp pulls his fingers out, and when he goes to move away, I grip him to me.
“No. Do it again.” I grind my cock up into his abs, and yes, that’s the spot.
“Geez, give me a sec.” He reaches for the condom, and I have to wait an unreasonable amount of time for him to tear it open and roll it down his magnificent cock. “You ready?”
I answer by whining and pulling my knees up.
He covers his smile with his hand as he rubs lube over his cock. “You should see how you look.”
“Sexy?”
Tripp groans. “You have no idea. You literally have no idea. If I die right here and now and your face is the last thing I see, I will have no regrets.”
I preen at his roundabout praise even though he’s talking about death. “If you are going to die, can you at least make sure I come first? Thanks.”
“Hold on, baby. Things are about to get real.”
Twenty-Four
TRIPP
Fuck. Things are getting too real, but am I going to stop? No way.
Everything I’ve ever wanted, everything I’ve ever dreamed of, is splayed out beneath me, begging for my dick.
The surge of possession courses through me. I want to own Dex. I want him to be mine for real. It’s difficult to remind myself of what this is—fun experimenting. Besties being together while not really being together.
A PR stunt gone too far.
My heart giving in.
After this, there will be no other men for me. No one would be able to live up to the pedestal I keep Dex on.
And that’s why I’ve refrained from doing this. From taking this step. Because I know I will fall apart after it’s done. This is just another notch on the Tripp Mitchell belt of heartache when it comes to Dex Mitchale.
“Tripp.” Dex’s needy, gravelly voice gives me new energy. It lifts me up while longing tries to push me down.
I have to get through this. It has to last, and I need to make sure I take note of every sound he makes, every face he pulls. Every and any indication of pleasure, I have to commit to memory. Because I wasn’t being dramatic when I said I could die happy. I might even prefer it because I know what comes next.
Sure, we’ll keep up this charade for the media, for our team, and for everyone else. But there will never come a time where I can legitimately call Dex mine, and taking this step—being inside him and owning his body—will only make the downfall more painful.