Page 83 of Arctic Titans of Northwood U: Volume 1

“We’ll see about that,” I huffed, thrusting my hips up to tip him off balance. My crotch, already aching with the tightness of my pants, throbbed as it brushed against Sawyer’s butt.

A chuckle erupted from him. “I felt that.”

I would have been embarrassed in any other scenario but this. Mostly because the look of mischief covered Sawyer’s handsome face as he sank down on me. He let all his weight press down on my bulge and my eyes rolled back in my skull. The sensation was such that it spread through my whole body, tension skyrocketing and my hands loosening around his wrists for just long enough that he could break free.

“I win,” he announced shortly, then grabbed my arms again and lifted them all the way above my head, crossing my wrists and pressing his lips against mine.

If he wrestled with all his hookups, I didn’t want to know. This felt like the only right way to do it. My hazy, lust-clouded mind couldn’t come up with a less awkward transition between us sitting next to each other and full-on making out, mere moments apart. Every trace of anxiety was gone by the time his full, juicy lips covered mine.

I savored his kisses in case I never got them again. And I tucked my worries about that somewhere deep in the back of my mind. Would it come back and bite me in the ass? Probably. But I wasn’t going to consider those paths now. Not when there was a hot keeper who wanted to bite my ass instead.

I shuddered at the thought and a whimper crossed from my lips to his. But Sawyer wasn’t immune to it. A moan left him as he shifted his weight and his legs wiggled between mine, his crotch resting on top of mine, and our torsos pressing together. He was hard; I could feel it on my sensitive, throbbing cock.

“Those pants must be killing you,” he said, his voice tight with lust and amusement.

“Uh-huh,” I murmured. Show some mercy. Take them off.

I didn’t know if he read these thoughts from my eyes or if it was simply the next logical step, but Sawyer kept one hand over my crossed wrists while sliding the other between us. The palm of his hand felt my bulge and I nearly cried out with joy.

How many times had I imagined this?

And yet, my imagination had failed miserably each and every time. The feeling was so much more packed with everything around us than I’d thought. It wasn’t merely a hand touching my hard cock. It was a hand, but also his breath on my face and his heartbeat over mine, and the classic rock in the background, and the way the subdued lights kissed his face. The darkness of his eyes contracted against the glimmers of the lights reflected in them. The beautiful almond shape his eyelids formed left me short of breath and the arch his hair made over his face turned him into a contemporary deity. He was stunning in every way. And when he touched me, all these little thoughts converged until my lower back was arching in ecstasy and air was draining out of my lungs.

The ease with which he unbuckled my belt and undid my button and zipper pointed to a well honed skill. A trace of jealousy zapped me, quickly covered by an immense sense of triumph that it was me he was undressing this night.

Sawyer allowed my pants to spread open over my crotch, but he didn’t pull them down. Instead, he pecked my lips, then sat up on my legs to undo all of the buttons on my shirt. He was swift about it, fingers nimble and capable of doing intricate things with great ease. I wondered what else he could do with those fingers and the thought almost embarrassed me. It was as though my ability to feel any sense of shame was numbed by him kissing me so much.

As my torso bared, from the bottom button to the top, a glint of desire grew in Sawyer’s eyes. He spread my shirt wide and bit his lip against smiling. When the moment passed, he set his hands on my chest and dragged them down my torso. “You need to show me your workout routine. It’s doing you wonders.”

I almost laughed, thinking he was teasing me. I was mostly flat, though the bench press Matt had forced me on broadened my chest and the ab coaster tightened my stomach. But as Sawyer traced every inch of my bare skin, I realized he wasn’t kidding. This pleased look on his face was nothing short of genuine.

The sexy keeper liked me.

“Let me see you,” I whispered, almost too nervous to ask, as though there was a chance he’d change his mind. I needed to remind myself that there was little I could do to blow it so badly — at least in this part — to make him run away. Whatever happened later, when the things I had no experience with began, would worry the Future Noah.

Sawyer did that thing with his lower lip, biting it and pulling it between his teeth. It made my dick throb and eyebrows arch. And when he started unbuttoning his shirt, I nearly lost it altogether. As he did it, I realized I had never seen him shirtless. At best, I had been stealing glimpses of his stomach when his tops pulled up by chance. But now, as he bared his torso, I placed every inch of him into my long-term memory.

He shrugged his shirt off, then unbuckled his belt and pulled it out of his pants, throwing both items on the floor behind him. One of his eyebrows quirked up. “Wanna touch me?”

“Fuck yeah,” I breathed, thankful that he could read my face so well. He was chiseled, although thin for an athlete. Each muscle on his body was carved with precision, flowing smoothly from one to the next. His figure was a work of art and Sawyer was the artist. Each tattoo on his body screamed ‘bad boy.’ The large, gothic “Burn in Hell” was inked on his neck. A spiderweb covered one of his pecs and a blade seemingly sank into his heart. He was a canvas of edgy artwork. And when my fingertips grazed them, I blurted, “Did it hurt?” The fascination that I felt showed itself on Sawyer’s face.

“Some hurt,” he said simply. “But it was worth it.” He covered my hands with his and pressed his own body harder, letting me get the full feel of his muscles and the relief of his figure. He dragged my hands from his collarbones all the way to his waist, then met my gaze. “Did that feel good?”

My throbbing cock answered the question for me.

“You can do whatever you want,” he said, releasing my hands and starting to touch my abdomen. His hands felt their way to my neck. “I’ll tell you if I don’t like it.” His words were determined, albeit softened for the mood of the moment. “And you have to tell me if you don’t like something, too.”

I nodded.

“Promise.” It was a crisp request that allowed for no debate.

I wondered why he insisted so much, but thought better than to discuss it. “I promise. I’ll tell you.”

“Good.” And as soon as he said the words, he shifted and laid on top of me. His bare torso kissed mine while I let my hands follow the sides of his ribcage, then travel to his upper back, and trace his spine all the way down to the edge of his pants.

He was moving steadily, but perpetually. His cock, still trapped behind his pants, was pressing and pulling back from mine. The movements caught and pulled my pants a little, baring the tent of my underwear pitched by my merciless erection. Gasps and moans left my open mouth when Sawyer kissed my neck.

He’d told me I could try anything I wanted, but a huge obstacle in that was my conscious mind. I feared being told he disliked something. I feared him pulling back from me. But I was also dying to rest my hand on his bulge. I was desperate to slide it inside his pants and feel it throb over his underwear.