“Always,” he says, his confidence and boldness a reassurance I never knew I always needed.
He wraps his legs around my waist, locking me deep inside his tight heat as he undulates his hips, up and down, side to side, dancing with me, making love back to me. Not just receiving butgiving.
Entranced, I begin to move with him, matching the rise and fall and sway of his hips, our eyes fixed on only each other. I see the moment the slow swell of need crests, his pupils expanding in a pool of cinnamon and umber as light from the fading day stripes across his face.
Panting, I thrust harder, faster, as he tightens his legs around me. My orgasm hits as he pulses on my cock, finally breaking eye contact when he throws his head back in rapture. I thrust through the peak, giving him all my power, everything in me as I empty into his body.
Shivering from coming so hard, I fall slack against him, crushing him into the bed below us. He breathes in as I breathe out, both of us needing the length of a song to recover. Amused by the thought, several songs flit through my brain until I land on the one that feels like this.
“Something just made you smile,” he says, groaning as I slip out of him.
I widen his legs, needing to see my cum seep from his body.
Ah. There. Clinging to his stretched-out rim before dribbling over. Reaching into one of the built-in drawers, I pull out one of his work bandannas, old and soft from multiple washings, catching the spill just before it hits the bed.
He nudges me with his thighs. “What made you smile like that?”
My smile broadens, heat touching my cheeks. I thumb his hole, pushing inside him as I stretch for a kiss.
“Thinking of a song,” I mumble.
“Mm? What song?”
I hum a few bars, absentmindedly stroking in and out of him with my thumb.
“That’s k.d. lang,” he says, inhaling sharply when I glance a sensitive area.
I nod, humming as I kiss him.
“Doesn’t she say something about being aDaddyin that song?”
“Not this again,” I groan, entirely faking my displeasure.
“I’m just saying, the lyric is right there.”
“Yes, but there are other lyrics besides that one. Deeper, more meaningful lyrics I now feel stupid about because you’re teasing me.”
He laughs, tightening around my thumb with a sigh. “It’s a good song. Makes me wonder if you’re secretly a massive romantic.”
“Literally no one has called me a romantic before.”
“Have you ever hummed ‘I Confess’ to anyone before? Or is that your move?”
I press farther inside him, getting him to arch off the bed. “Ahhh, fuck you,” he says, his cock reviving.
I lean in, sucking him into my mouth. I go after the trapped bit of brine in his foreskin with my tongue, attacking his slit, the nervy bit of frenulum, sucking on the loose skin until his cock swells, exposing his glans to the rough and smooth sides of my tongue.
More of my cum works past my thumb, dripping down my palm. When he’s fully hard, I pull my mouth away to the musical sound of him cursing in Spanish.
“No,” I say, finally answering him, still slow-fucking him with my thumb. “That is not my move, nor have I ever hummed a romantic song to a lover before.”
“But you have edged people to the point of insanity, right?” he asks, grabbing for his cock before I slap his hand away.
“Of course. But only because it heightened my pleasure. When I edge you, I do it because it heightens your pleasure.”
“Bastard,” he whispers.
“Partner,” I correct.
