Destiny Calls Samantha Wayland (the first e reader .txt) 📖

thrust his hips up, running the ridge of his cock head along Patrick"s shaft. Christ, Brandon was gorgeous, his color high, his eyes blazing green as he abandoning himself to the pleasure. That Patrick could give him this, bring him to this place, was incredible. He wondered again what Brandon would look like when he was lost in the throes of orgasm. The thought 77

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was distracting enough that Patrick lost his rhythm, the dry skin of his palm dragging across the equally dry silk of their erections.

Damn it. He needed to know. To see. He wanted to go faster. Harder.

He"d forgotten all about the lube until he heard the cap pop open. He stopped at once, releasing their stiff rods, smiling at the idea that Brandon must have read his mind. His heart hammering in his ears, he watched Brandon pour a puddle into his palm and then smooth that palm up and over his aching cock. Every touch was a bolt of lightning traveling the length of his nervous system. Each stroke tightening his back, his balls, his chest.

Taking the bottle from Brandon, he drizzled more lube over Brandon"s hand and cock before closing the bottle and tossing it aside. He rubbed the slippery warmth over the swollen plum of Brandon"s tip while Brandon pushed them together again along their entire lengths. Every nerve ending in his cock could feel the sweep of Brandon"s fingers and the press of Brandon"s hard shaft as it rolled and slipped along his. They formed a slick tunnel with their hands, forcing them into firmer contact.

Patrick"s eyes locked onto Brandon"s, his neck muscles straining as their hands flew over their cocks. Faster and faster, his heart rate accelerating, his breath exploding from his lungs with each plunge, sucking back in with each lift. With a subtle twist, Brandon"s hand rolled their shafts along one another before running his thumb up and over the ultra-sensitive head of Patrick"s cock.

It was hard for Patrick to comprehend that it could keep getting better. But then, in the midst of mind-numbing desire, he could admit that it wasn"t just about the physical stuff.

Shoving the thought aside, for now, Patrick quickly learned to follow Brandon"s lead. His hips started to thrust of their own accord, desperate for the release that was building in him. His balls drew up tighter and brushed against Brandon"s when their hands dropped and their bases were pressed close.

Brandon grasped his arm, hauling him upright for a long, hot kiss. The force and strength of the hand clamped on the back of his neck was electrifying. After years of being considerably larger and stronger than any of his lovers, of having to be so careful to stay gentle, he"d never once wondered if his lover was fighting to stay gentle with him. Who knew just the prospect of the loss of control would be so goddamn arousing?

The change in angle forced them to slow their hands, but the liberal amount of lube let them continue, the back of Brandon"s fingers trailing up Patrick"s abdomen with each trip along their shafts. Patrick thought his lungs might explode, gasping when their mouths broke apart before diving in for more. He couldn"t get enough. Brandon seemed just as lost, pulling him back for more tongue-thrusting, lip-biting kisses.

Patrick"s brain finally sent the urgent message that he needed more oxygen, now, and he tore his mouth away, his head rolling on his shoulders as he fell back against the footboard. He missed Brandon"s mouth, but their hands were freed to build up speed once again. Patrick roared toward climax, his ass clenched tight, his belly quivering.

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He fought it back, squeezing tighter, moving faster, torturing himself in his determination to drag Brandon over the edge.

Brandon"s hoarse shout rang in Patrick"s ears. Brandon"s hips bucked hard as cum flew from his shaft and onto Patrick"s chest, their hands. Groaning, Patrick pulled harder, milking and extending Brandon"s orgasm, watching those familiar green eyes blaze with passion. The traction on his own cock was unbearable, yanking his orgasm up out of his balls. It slammed through him, hot jets boiling up and out and into Brandon"s hand, each pulse, each tug heaving an uncontrollable grunt from deep in his chest.

When his eyes rolled back to forward, they looked into Brandon"s and his heart stuttered in his chest. He knew he"d never be the same again.

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Chapter Eight

Destiny arrived home late from work that night. She"d been forced to stay a couple extra hours, working through supper to plow through the remaining backlog from being out on Monday. Normally, she didn"t mind the long hours. She was proud of her position and had worked hard to gain the stability she"d craved. But in spite of all that, tonight she just wanted to be home with her boys.

The house was quiet and dark, Farley the only one to greet her and he looked desperate. Taking pity on the poor dog, she walked him around the block, letting him linger on every tree and lamp-post, before returning to the house and trotting upstairs.

She was surprised to find Patrick and Brandon asleep in bed together. They were both dead to the world, sprawled out across the massive sleigh bed, the covers tangled around their waists. The sight alone made her heart beat a little faster and she let her gaze linger on their bare chests and wide shoulders.

And they weren"t just pretty look at. They were her dearest friends. Smart, funny and—she thought with a smile—deceptively innocent looking in sleep.

She guessed at least one of them might be woken up by her moving around the room as she kicked off her shoes and settled Farley on his big pillow under the window, but neither stirred. It wasn"t that late. Brandon was still recovering, so it made sense that he"d need extra sleep, but she couldn"t imagine what Patrick had done that day to have him sleeping so peacefully.

But he was and