Page 106 of The Tartan Thesis

“Aye.” I nod, taking a deep breath and relaxing back onto the bed.

He positions my ankles up onto his broad shoulders, and I gasp as the head of his cock flicks over my opening, circling, pressing, just enough, then again, applying more pressure each time.

“Breathe, baby,” he says.

Baby. I gasp in a breath and slowly release it. I need him in me. Now.

Beau presses into me again, slow but firm, and I gasp again as the ridge of his head lodges itself inside, stretching me, a burning pleasure-pain that sends goosebumps racing across my skin.

“Fuck, baby,” he purrs, his hands grazing along the tops of my thighs, his eyes on mine.

I’m panting now, as he works himself deeper, shallow teasing thrusts, as I nod, moaning for more. My body yielding, a perfect invasion until pleasure overwhelms coherent thought.

He takes his time, and in what feels like forever and no time at all, his hips are flush against me, cock fully inside me. He moves my ankles off his shoulders so I can wrap my legs around his sweat-slicked body, and when he leans down to kiss me, his mouth is hungrier than ever. I grip his arms, holding tight as I adjust to the feeling of taking every throbbing inch of him.

He pulls back, holding my face between his hands and watching me as he pulls his hips backward and begins to slowly pump into me with gentle thrusts, me clenching around him.

As I adjust to him, he leans down over me, holding me tight. “I’ve needed this since the first time I saw you,” he whispers, teeth grazing my ear.

I whimper, my back arching as he keeps his steady pace.

“It’s always been you, Torin,” he says, his voice breathless. “Fuck, baby, it’s always been you.”

His pace quickens, and I moan each time he bottoms out inside me, my own cock throbbing and leaking between us. Sensing what I need, he stands to his full height, puts my ankles back up on his shoulders, wraps his arms around my thighs, and drives into me.

My moans grow louder as I beg. “Harder. Please—” The words dissolve into moans as he obliges, his powerful hips snapping forward, shifting angles, his cock finding that perfect spot. “Fuck, right there.” His eyes never leave mine, dark with hunger, watching, jaw clenched as I unravel beneath him. It’s like nothing I’ve ever experienced before.

“Put your hands around my neck and hold on tight,” Beau commands as he wraps my trembling legs around his waist again and lifts me, standing tall.

Suspended in air, completely at his mercy, I feel impossibly full as gravity works me down onto him, impaling me over and over. Each time he pulls me down, our skin slaps together, and I feel him deep, in that place that few men can reach, much less stroke with such mastery.

“I want to ride you,” I say, and his grin grows.

“You want to ride this big cock, baby?” His voice drops to a gravelly whisper that vibrates through my entire body.

“Please, Beau, let me make you feel as good as you make me.”

Turning around and sitting on the bed, he stays inside me as he works his way across the mattress. I feel every inch of him shifting as he settles onto his back, his hands sliding up my thighs, leaving trails of fire on my skin.

“Yeah, baby. Ride it just like that.” He wraps his strong fingers around my aching length, thumb circling the slick tip, then pumping, stroking as I arch my back, bouncing in his lap, studying him, squeezing his ample girth as I ride. His breath catches, a small victory that makes me dizzy with power.

Heat builds between us as I work him, tip to base, watching his face contort with pleasure when I find the perfect rhythm. “Fuck yes.”

Not ready for this to end, I push his hand away from my cock and pin it beside his head, leaning down until our lips brush. He holds me by the jaw and stares into my eyes, thumb tracing my lower lip, which I suck into my mouth as I continue to ride. He exchanges it for his first two fingers. I grab his wrist and direct them deep, the tips pressing against the opening of my throat, my body reacting, my hole squeezing.

“God, baby, that feels so fucking good,” he growls. “You’re so fucking good to me.”

I release the digits, and he takes over once more, hands gliding down my body, gripping my waist. Holding me in place, he pounds up into me, each thrust igniting stars behind my eyelids. His muscles coil tighter, his rhythm growing urgent as his breathing fractures. My moans are more akin to shouts as he nails me from below, begging wordlessly, a primal urge growing deep inside for him to flood me with his seed.

I can feel his control slipping, but Beau’s eyes lock with mine, determined to witness my pleasure first. I arch my back, drinking in the sight of him, the sweat on his tanned brow, how his jaw clenches when I tighten around him, those veiny hands leaving fingerprints of desire on my skin.

My orgasm builds as his hips slap against me. My cock swells, my balls tighten, and I shout louder than ever. “Fuck!” We both watch in awe as I have my first hands-free orgasm, my dick throbbing as I shoot my second load of the night, this time all over Beau’s perfect abs and chest.

The room spins and darkens at the edges, but Beau’s voice pulls me back, his words rough velvet against my senses as his hips continue their relentless claim.

Then Beau’s eyes roll back, his voice breaking. “Oh fuck, baby. Fuck— That’s— You’re gripping me so right. Just—so perfect for me.”

“Do it,” I say, almost a whimper, my own pleasure still intense as he continues to pound me. “Breed me, Beau. Please.”