Page 99 of The Little Shop of Curiosities Cursed Object 1, The Music Box

“Like what?” I gasp as he moves back to me and begins to nip and suck at my neck.

“Wild. Untameable. Like holding fire with my bare hands.”

“Sam,” I cry out. I roll my hips against his, needing the friction and wanting fewer layers between us.

Straddling my legs, he sits up to give me enough space to lift so he can pull my shirt off too. My eyes trail down his torso, which is like a Greek masterpiece chiselled in marble and lightly dusted with dark hair that tapers down to an honest to god six-pack.

“Jesus Christ.” I inhale sharply. “I could scrub my pants clean on those things.”

“Jesus Christ?” He chuckles. “I didn’t think that was your religion.”

“It’s not, but that’s how much you’ve scrambled my brain.”

He draws me up into a seated position and grabs the hem of my shirt, pulling it up and over my head.

“Oh,” he breathes out as his heated gaze trails over my chest. I really don’t know what’s put that look on his face. I’m way too skinny, pale as milk, have no chest hair to speak of, and a whole ton of⁠—

“Freckles,” Sam whispers reverently. “Fuck, they do go all the way down, don’t they?”

“You like my freckles?” I say in surprise. “But they’re ugly.”

“Are you kidding?” He pushes me back against the bed, bracing his weight on his hands as he hovers over me. “These”—he presses a soft kiss to my collarbone, then follows the path of my freckles down my body—“are gorgeous. Every part of you is so fucking pretty, Prickles.” He pauses at my chest and sucks my nipples, one and then the other, until I’m an aching, throbbing, squirming mess.

“Sam, please,” I moan loudly, although I’m not quite sure what I’m begging for. He lets go of a nipple, leaving it wet and tingling, and continues his journey downwards, placing nips and kisses over my swathes of freckles.

My cock is so hard it hurts. I grab Sam and pull him up against me, taking his mouth and wrapping my legs around his waist so I can grind against his denim-covered dick. Fuck, the friction alone is enough to have my eyes rolling back in my head.

I reach down, easing the grip of my legs so I can push my hands between us and pop the buttons on his jeans as he devours my mouth. I slide my hand into his boxers and feel his groan into my mouth as I fist the long, hard length of him.

Oh my god.

For the first time in my life, I have a cock in my hand that doesn’t belong to me, and it’s so fucking sexy the way he’s rolling his hips and fucking himself into my grip. I honestly think that I’m so turned on I could come from that alone, but Sam has other ideas.

He abruptly pulls back, releasing my mouth. I give a murmur of protest and chase his lips, but he grips the waistband of my pyjamas and looks to me for permission.

I’m too far gone to be self-conscious, so I nod vigorously. He drags them down my legs until my own slim cock bounces free, slapping against my flat but much softer stomach.

I groan in appreciation as he strips off the rest of his own clothes and throws them to the side of the bed. Then he crawls up my body, and my heartbeat ratchets up at the intense way he looks at me, like his single most important mission in life is to get me off.

I can fucking get behind that.

He lays down on top of me, my legs automatically parting to make room for him in the cradle of my thighs. I have never felt anything so bloody good. The heat of his skin against mine, the rough scratch of his leg hair and pubes. His hairy chest rubbing against my nipples, still sensitive from his mouth, but most of all, the feel of his cock rubbing against mine. The hard, silky length, the heat, the bite of friction.

God, I need to come so badly.

“Do you have any lube?” He breathes against my lips.

“N-no.” I take his mouth once again. I’m rocking against him, but even though we’re both oozing precum, it’s not enough. After a moment, Sam pulls back slightly and spits into his hand a few times.

That should not in any way be sexy, but as he reaches down and wraps his fist around both of our cocks, I cry out. He takes my mouth, thrusting his tongue in to taste me, and sets a hard pace. I can’t think, all I know is I need to come.

The feel of Sam’s dick against mine, the perfect tight grip of his hand, and the frantic pace, knowing neither one of us are going to last, has me on edge.

“Fuck,” Sam gasps loudly. “Harrison.”

My name on his lips, panted against my mouth as he fucks our cocks through his fist, is enough to shove me over the edge, and I come so hard I almost pass out. A second later, Sam groans, a long, drawn-out sound, and pulses of warmth flow over my cock and stomach.

We’re both breathing heavily as he collapses against me, pushing his face into the crook of my neck. I wrap my arms around him, and this time, I return the favour and absently massage his scalp with my fingers.