There was another chuckle and I heard drawers opening and closing. "Go to bed, McClish," Owenreplied.
Obeying this command, I stripped off my clothes and slipped between the sheets. My dick was pitching a tent that could comfortably sleep a family of four and their elderly beagle, but I forced myself to listen to the night instead of my body's drumbeat ofarousal.
There were crickets and cicadas chirping in tandem and woodland creatures engaging in their nocturnal rituals. The trees rustled and the ocean lapped against the shore, and—and I heard it again. I heardhim.
I would've missed it if not for the creaking bedsprings playing backup to his moans. Right on cue, my cock throbbed in response. I was in bad shape here. Harder than humanly possible, leaking all over the sheets, and now I had to listen while he finished the job. I was one self-indulgent second away from flopping on my belly and rutting into the mattress without concern for the current level of weird between me andOwen.
"Go to bed, Bartlett," Icalled.
"Iamin bed," he shouted back. "Something's keeping meup."
I swallowed a laugh as it dawned on me. I'd announced my presence before Owen could finish, and I had to imagine he was in as much distress as I was. And I was imagining. I couldn't stop thinking about the way he touched himself. There was a frantic quality to it, as if his entire existence hinged upon finding hisrelease.
"Sorry about that," Isaid.
Another garbled noise drifted through the wall from Owen's room, and my fingers found my shaft. I couldn't help it. Just couldn't helpit.
"Enough apologies," heyelled.
I closed my eyes and dragged my palm up, twisting over the crown the same way Owen had. Indulging in this small dose of relief, I allowed myself to believe I was showing him what I wanted. Or it was him stroking me. Or it was my hand on his cock, and I was showing him I knew how he liked it. Then the fantasies collided, and it was all of it at once. In my mind, I gave him everything and he gave just as much in return. Cocks, hands, mouths; there was nolimit.
My hips were rocking up, surging as I pumped into my hand. The motion sent the headboard knocking against the wall and the bedsprings creaking, and then I heard a very clear command from Owen. "Don'tstop."
My whole body shuddered, and a grunt caught in my throat. It didn't matter whether his order was intended for me. That was how I was taking it, and I was too lost in lust to consider anythingelse.
"Fuck yes," I replied. I shoved my shoulders back into the mattress as I stroked harder, and the headboard hammered against the wall. "Yes, yes,yes."
It was a little over the top, sure. I wasn't ashamed to say there were some theatrics involved in that porn star wail. I was putting on a show, and Owen wastoo.
There was a thump followed by a groan that was distinctly Owen, and I could almost feel him watching me. Just as I'd watchedhim.
"Don't stop," he repeated, his voice rough. He sounded closer, as if he was speaking directly to the barrier between us. And there was no doubt his words were meant for me. "Don't you fuckingstop."
We were no longer performing solitary acts on dueling stages, separate, and simultaneous only as a matter of coincidence. We were sharing thisnow.
Another thump sounded above my head, and I envisioned Owen bracing himself there as he stroked. His head would hang low, his chin resting on his chest and his eyes screwed shut as he focused on finding his release. Sweat would dot his forehead and heat would crawl up his neck and cheeks. He'd snarl and gasp as he edged closer, and slap his palm against the wall each time he denied his orgasm. Of course he'd hold back. He'd wait for me. He didn't know how to beselfish.
"Let me hear you," herasped.
Get in here.The words were dancing on the tip of my tongue but I didn't have the backbone to say them. I couldn't disrupt the forward trajectory of this moment by requesting a leftturn.
"Don't go quiet on me now," Owen said, his words huffing out in strainedsnarls.
"I need to come," I moan-whined.
"Maybe I'll let you," hereplied.
My body was rigid with tension, every muscle held tight, and his response was a current of heat down my spine and around my cock. The challenge he levied—wait for his permission—fit like a too-tight suit, but I craved his approval more than mycomfort.
"Please," I groaned, my hips jerking off the mattress as I thrustharder.
He growled, but offered nothingmore.
I needed more, and I was going to getit.
I forced a breath from my lungs. My legs parted as I imagined Owen settling there, his hand gliding over his cock as he watched me. He pressed his free hand to the back of my thigh, pushing it to my chest until I was spread open for him. A feral smile tugged at his lips as he gazed at me, like he was categorizing every inch and devising methods of sexual torment. His fingers trailed down my leg and around the base of my cock. It was the lightest touch, one that seemed too gentle and measured for a man like him. But then two fingers were in my crease, then they were inside me, then I was seeing stars. Nothing gentle or measured aboutit.
"Oh, fuck," Isighed.
