Page 72 of Antagonist


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I push him away, but as I try to swim back to shore, he pulls my leg, and I go under, swallowing a mouthful of water.

“I’m eating your pie,” I say as I swim back to shore.

“I’m eating you,” he replies, and I shiver, not sure if it's because of the cold water or wanting his words to come true.

We rush our walk back to the cabin because of the dropping temperature. With the sun going down behind the trees, it’s starting to feel a lot colder.

We’re both shivering by the time we get in, so we drop our clothes in the washer and head straight to the bathroom.

Fletcher turns the water on in the shower and leans against the sink while it warms up, his hands on either side of him.

His semi is begging for attention, and I especially want to play with his foreskin and see how much he can take before he comes.

“Remember what I said last night?” he asks, his gaze turning dark. Commanding.

“Harder? Faster?” I joke.

He crooks his finger for me to come closer.

I put my hands on his waist and lower my head until our noses touch.

“Do you trust me?” he asks.

“With my body? Absolutely.”

Something passes over his eyes, but I can’t read it. Then his smile becomes the dangerous kind you’re compelled to run toward.

“Step into the shower and face the wall.”

I do as he asks, my skin heating from the power of his gaze alone.

Fletcher comes in behind me and directs the showerhead so it’s raining on me. He runs his hands over my skin, kissing the back of my neck, my arms, my shoulder blades.

I want to ask him to keep moving south, but this is his show. And he’s right. I’m not a submissive, but fuck me if I don’t want to be at Fletcher’s mercy.

He grabs the shower soap and drips it down my back. The scent of pine and rain fills my senses as he lathers the soap on my skin.

“I’ve been dying to touch you like this, Harrison.”

I drop my head against the tiles. Why does my name on his lips make me want to go down on my knees for him?

My muscles relax under his touch, and my mind floats away into a land of pleasure, where everything is warm, sensual, carnal.

“Hmm, your hands…fuck, Fletcher.”

I hear a small chuckle, but he doesn’t stop. I want to cry out when he reaches the crease of my ass, teasing with one soapy finger.

“More, Fletcher…fuck.”

He flattens one hand on the middle of my back, pushing me against the wall. My cock is rock hard, but the slippery tile offers no relief.

I close my eyes because I can’t look at him. If I do, I’ll say something I shouldn’t, like begging him to fuck me. Condoms be dammed.

Fletcher lines up his body with mine, his hard cock trapped between my ass cheeks as he drags his blunt nails over my sides. I shake with the overload of sensation and the contrast between the lines he’s drawing on my body and the water hitting my skin.

He holds my hands above my head, mirroring what I did to him last night, and whispers in my ear.

“I’ll give you everything you need, baby.”