Page 80 of Striking Range

He approaches the end of the bed, taking my palm in his as he peers down at me. “Yeah?”

“Please take it from me. It has to be you.”

His eyes widen even further, a breath stuttering out from somewhere deep in his chest. Relief.

And as he stands there, shocked, I add, “I won’t accept anything less.”

“Okay,” he concedes. “Okay, Sky. Lie down.”

Everett nudges me backward until I’m lying in the center of the bed again, crawling over me. As he blinks at me, I notice that his eyes are wet and glazed over.

Reaching up, I cup his cheek. “Evie?”

He shakes his head, as if to tell me that nothing is wrong. Then his hand is next to my mouth again, cupped. “Spit for me.”

So I do, and he adds his own to the mix just as he did so many nights ago when he jacked us off with one hand.

He brings our saliva to his length, rubbing it up and down his shaft. He’s panting, hips jerking slightly before he leans down low and pushes one of my legs up by the back of my thigh, only to spit again.

I feel it land on my balls and slide down, straight over my hole. Shivering, I fight against the cold air mixing with the wet feeling and how it’s covering my skin in goosebumps.

My hole clenches around nothing—searching for him already.

“So pretty,” Everett mutters, mostly to himself once again, but I blush anyway.

Before I can reply, or ask him to say it again, I feel his swollen head press firmly against my entrance. My eyes snap up to meet his, where he’s watching me.

There seems to be this long moment between us, one in which we’re communicating through our eyes alone. I’m telling him that yes, I am scared. And no, I don’t want him to stop.

And he’s telling me that he’ll never hurt me; that he thinks I’m so fucking beautiful.

But then his eyes grow weary, and he says, “Sky… This really isn’t going to feel good with just our spit. Fingers are one thing, but my dick… That’s a whole different story.”

I sigh. “I’ll be fine. I promise.”

“But I don’t want to hurt you.” Everett sounds so defeated.

He won’t tell me no; he could never deny me, but he is terrified to give me what I want. But I don’t have any damn lube, and I need him.

I peer around the room, using his earlier trick and trying my best to manifest it. Have I ever accidentally bought lube before? I mean, it’s possible, right?

No. It is not. I’m a fucking virgin.

Right as I’m giving up, my eyes land on the bottle of baby lotion I keep on my dresser. Being barefoot in the sand so frequently dries out my feet, so I use it after showers.

Turning my attention back to Everett, I ask, “Could we use baby lotion?”

He huffs out a laugh. “What? You have baby lotion?”

I point to the right of us, over his shoulder, and he takes a look, getting up from the bed to grab it.

He reads the back for a moment before saying, “Actually, I think we could. It’s safe for babies, so I’m sure it’s safe to go inside of you.”

A moment later, he’s lathering his dick generously.

“It smells good,” I comment, to which Everett laughs again.

“Now you’ll smell even better as I fuck you senseless.”