Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 71403 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 286(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71403 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 286(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
I’ll presume it’s a thing while my fingers claw the bed sheets uncontrollably and my toes curl.
I might be taking a page from River’s book of phrasing things a touch too poetically, but when he puts a condom on and lubes up, then slides inside me, it’s like the perfect key fitting inside a lock where it always belonged. And the limitless feeling of satisfaction it unlocks. The utter feeling of completeness. How our bodies unite with such passion that I literally wonder if I’ve ever truly had sex before. If this isn’t, in a way, my actual first time.
I never considered how differently it would feel with a person like River, with whom I feel so securely attached.
Someone like River, who is as reliable as the sea, in how he rushes forward when I need him and pulls back at just the right moment.
When he fits himself all the way inside me.
When he lays atop my back, enfolding me in his arms, cherishing me, as he rocks his hips against my body.
When his lips brush over my ear, whispering, “Your ass feels so good around my dick, Finn, I don’t ever want to slide out. I just want to live here inside you.”
How even words like that can sound like poetry.
Coming from the right set of lips.
With every thrust, my own cock is driven deeper into the smooth, soft, slippery bed sheets, stroking it closer and closer to the edge, yet barely not enough to spill over. It’s a beautiful insanity he’s captured me in. I’d happily endure this torment for hours.
I just want to live here inside you …
It’s incredible that we last as long as we do. For two men who’ve craved each other all this time, I would have expected us to explode the moment we had the chance. But River is a patient man. And I’m a strong guy able to take as much as he gives. And whether we go on for half an hour, a whole hour, or the rest of the damned night, I fully plan on cherishing any length of time I have with River.
The climax comes like waves shattering against rocks.
Even long after it happens, it still feels like he’s inside me, as we lie on the bed, cradled in each other’s arms, his contented gaze pouring into mine. I think I never allowed myself to believe it could be possible for this to work.
The longer I’m lost in his eyes, I think I’m starting to.
Finale - River
“That’s a wrap!”
Music to my ears.
The energy on set contrasts considerably with how it was months ago with our last director. The replacement—Lauralin May, a fierce and talented director who is known for always inspiring and urging the best out of her cast and crew—gives the room a warm round of applause, thanking and congratulating everyone on a job well-done. I’m filled with confidence that under her leadership, this film will be more than just some cash-grab sequel; it’ll be a noteworthy work of cinema capable of standing on its own legs.
I believe that’s the wording I hear probably ten times at the wrap after party, taking place in the large penthouse of a hotel near our new set in California. Every cast and crew member there, it’s such a lively celebration of the trials and tribulations we had to overcome—even beyond the nightmare of Trent Embers—to complete this project to everyone’s satisfaction. I make my rounds with a tasty cup of rum punch (minus the rum) basking in the warmth of the room. I make sure to stop by Lauralin and praise her on an insightful and inspiring directorial job. I learned a lot from her, so much that I’ve even considered someday in the future stepping behind the camera instead of in front of it.
I find Lexi by a window looking thoughtful and happy, just having finished chatting with a pair of ladies from the costume crew. She brightens up when I approach, and I get the biggest hug from her. There’s something so free about her over these past few months, like it’s just me and her against the world again, back in the days when we made a running gag out of attending ridiculous auditions together and grabbing a bite afterwards without the faintest notion that either of us would actually hit it someday. “Lauralin wants me to join her on her next project,” Lexi tells me, her eyes giddy. “We’ve been talking every day between takes, I feel like we’re becoming actual friends. Me,” she says, a hand to her chest. “Friends with the Lauralin May. I don’t know what I’ll be doing, exactly … Consulting? Assisting? Maybe there’s a tiny role for me? I don’t know, but I don’t care. I am so there.”
“Look at us,” I tease her, “all grown up, out here in the big wide world.” I nudge her. “Don’t be a stranger. Better keep me at the top of your growing call list when the big things happen.”