Chapter 249
Andy made a sound, a laugh or maybe a sob. “Jesus, that’s—You like that, sweetheart? I canfeelyou getting harder. Do that again, make me feel you inside and out for hours…”
Scooter went boneless under Andy for just a moment, need so white hot that he couldn’t breathe. “…God…” He gasped for air like breathing was a thing he could wrestle into submission. “You tell meif I hurt you, babe,” he cautioned, then arched up, rolling his hips slow and round, pressing into Andy, harder, deeper. At the apex of his circle, he brought his hand down against Andy’s ass, a sharp, stinging slap that left a dull echo in the air. His palm tingled and his dick jolted at the movement Andy’s body made.
Andy gasped and groaned and shuddered. “Doesn’t hurt,” he said. “Oh, God, it feels like, like fire, the best kind of fire, that instant right before you come, God.” He rolled his hips a little, pushing, testing. “Christ. I’m going to come if you keep that up.”
Scooter quaked, then moved again, slow and sensual, short thrusts, waiting until Andy’s body relaxed again, waiting. When Andy stopped clenching down, prepared for Scooter’s hand, he swung again, the mark just to one side of the first, leaving a brilliant pink smudge against Andy’s skin.
He wanted to do this all day, the subtle, carnal movements, the way Andy clenched hard around Scooter’s dick, the eager sounds coming out of Andy’s throat. He couldn’t. He was too close, wanted too much. “Lean forward, babe,” Scooter urged him. “Get a hand on the table.” God, now, Andy, please. The angle changed again as Andy went nearly limp across his lap, then shoved back, hard, using the table as balance.
An eager, needy cry was torn out of his throat as Scooter realized he’d put all the control in Andy’s hands. Andy wasn’t interested in slow or subtle or sensual. He used the leverage of the table to fuck backward onto Scooter’s dick, setting a punishing rhythm that had Scooter trembling and shaking as he tried desperately to match. Andy knew exactly what he was doing, relentlessly stroking himself against Scooter. His muscles clenched rhythmically, steady pulses that set Scooter’s blood on fire. Scooter threw his head back, brought his hand down one last time on Andy’s ass. The deep vibration was too much, he couldn’t hold it any longer. “Andy, Andy, Andy…” Scooter cried his name with deep, rasping breaths. Great tremors shifted through him as he blissed out on sensation, reaching some impossible height of pleasure.
Andy shouted and came, clenching down hard. Every muscle in his back and shoulders went taut and tense, held for a long, shuddering moment, and then relaxed with a hoarse sigh. “Oh, God.”
Scooter shuddered, hands squeezing down on Andy’s hips as he thrust through his aftershocks. Each jolt of his hips set Andy off more, until they were both boneless and panting for breath. “Mmmmmm,” Scooter mumbled, limply patting Andy’s thigh. He gazed down, admiring the pattern of pink-peach handprints across Andy’s ass. “That’s nice.” He poked the center of one mark, watching the skin whiten, then rush red as the blood flowed in. “You…you liked it?”
Andy twitched, but before Scooter could interpret it as a flinch, pushed back into the touch like Muffin demanding to be petted. “That may be understating it, babe. Or did you miss how I went off untouchedand shot halfway across the damn room?” He sounded unbearably smug.
“I’m very impressed,” Scooter said, not even kidding. “Jus’ wanna make sure. Damn, that was something else.” He wasn’t sure what else entirely. He was pretty sure there were descriptive phrases for it, but he’d pretty much just fucked his brain right out and he wasn’t coming up with any. “I love you, baby. So much.”
“Love you, too.” Andy pushed off the table and leaned back against Scooter’s chest, still breathing hard. “And that was amazing.” He was quiet for a moment, then sighed. “And we should probably clean that up before it stains and we have to answer more awkward questions.”
“Right,” Scooter agreed. “See how I am leaping to my feet to clean. Very diligent. Yep.” 22
“And when story time is done, you’re going to go where?” Andy prompted.
Billie pointed toward the cluster of study tables that had been set out for older students, though Andy got the distinct impression she was suppressing an eye-roll. “Get a book and wait over there.”
“Right,” Andy agreed. He didn’t think their chat with Simon would fill the entire duration of the library’s story hour, but it was good to have contingency plans in place. There was always the chance they’d get into a shouting match anywayand get kicked out, after all. Even with a desire to make peace on all sides, Simon was still kind of an ass.