He dropped into the deep Adirondack chair beside Memphis and gave him a wink that Memphis would have found ridiculous on anybody else, but he was up and moving before he could change his mind, straddling Preacher’s hips and kissing him deeply.
When he pulled back, Preacher arched a brow, glancing down at Memphis’s lap. “Should I be offended that you’ve clearly spent your recovery time objectifying me?”
Memphis looked him in the eyes as he groped Preacher’s crotch, feeling his already swelling dick. “You don’t seem offended.” He ran his thumb over the zipper of Preacher’s jeans before sliding both palms up to span the muscles of his broad chest, letting his nails trace the ink there. The skin was cool and tacky, and Preacher smelled like sweat and the wood he’d been cutting.
Memphis pushed Preacher back again in the slightly reclining wooden chair, following to dip his tongue into the hollow of his throat, tasting the tang of salt before dipping lower to tease one of his nipples with his teeth and the other with his thumbnail.
“This is a dangerous game you’re playing,” Preacher warned with a growl, his hands grabbing Memphis’s hips and dragging him forward until their erections were pressed together through the fabric.
Memphis sucked in a breath as Preacher slipped his fingers into the crease between his cheeks, his fingertips teasing over his hole. He grunted at what he found. “Fuck, you’re wet. Why are you so wet?”
Memphis kissed his way up Preacher’s throat to his earlobe. “You don’t remember fucking your load into me this morning? ‘Cause I remember you taking great pleasure in fingering me afterwards.”
Preacher made a sound that was almost a snarl, making Memphis’s aching cock leak. He slipped a finger inside, their awkward angle making his thrust shallow and frustrating. Preacher used his free hand to grip Memphis’s chin, forcing him to meet his gaze. “Are you saying that the whole time we were shooting and sparring…”
“Your cum was leaking out of me?” Memphis asked, kissing Preacher’s slightly gaping mouth. “Yeah, that’s what I’m telling you. It was distracting and sexy as fuck. Now, I’m telling you I want more.”
“Christ,” Preacher muttered. “Lift up.”
“Right here?” Memphis asked, gazing around the empty lot.
“Are you afraid we might scandalize the dogs? I think that ship has sailed.” Preacher shifted so he could force his finger deeper into Memphis’s hole, massaging his prostate until he whined. “Did you really think you could crawl into my lap, dick hard, tell me you’re horny and leaking and I wouldn’t fuck you right here and now?”
Memphis couldn’t help the needy, wanton sound that spilled from his lips. He did as Preacher asked, planting his booted feet on either side of Preacher’s muscular thighs, gripping the back of the chair and lifting enough for Preacher to unbutton and unzip his jeans, shoving them to mid-thigh before doing the same to Memphis’s sweats, tugging them awkwardly out of the way, leaving his ass exposed to the cool air. Then Preacher’s fingers were back, massaging his entrance before pushing two inside.
They both groaned, but Preacher looked particularly shattered. “Fuck, you’re so wet. So fucking wet and warm and tight.”
Every word made Memphis’s cock throb where it bobbed between them. Preacher definitely had a breeding kink. He loved emptying himself inside Memphis, feeling the evidence of his release, feeding it to Memphis on his fingers.
Memphis had never thought that he’d find such a thing sexy, but the truth was, Preacher wanting to leave any part of himself inside Memphis was almost enough to have him coming on the spot. Breeding had always seemed sort of barbaric and caveman, like a man had wanted to mark him or possess him, own him. But when it came to Preacher, Memphis could only hope he wanted those things with him and any evidence that he did made Memphis feel warm and wanted. He wanted to be Preacher’s—only Preacher’s—and he wanted the world to know that he was.
“You don’t have to prep me. I’m good. I promise. Just fuck me. Now. Please.”
“Bossy,” Preacher whispered, but fondly, like he liked this take-charge Memphis.
The position was awkward, Memphis’s thighs were already burning, but the moment Preacher’s cock pushed inside, all thoughts were replaced with the sting of his body making room for Preacher’s much-needed invasion. He closed his eyes, savoring the feeling of fullness.
Memphis had expected another session like that morning, a rough, hard fuck that left them both laughing and out of breath. Instead, Preacher’s hands gripped Memphis’s waist, holding him steady as he slowly pulled out until only the head of his cock breached him before surging back in with the snap of his hips, driving the breath from his lungs. It felt like Preacher was in his belly. He was just so fucking deep.
Memphis gripped Preacher’s bare shoulders, needing some kind of anchor. He might have been on top but he was in no way in control. Preacher’s gaze was locked on Memphis, paralyzing him with the intensity of his look until the world grew small around them and there was nothing but the two of them.
Preacher took him apart slowly and it was death by paper cuts, the hard length of him slowly dragging almost free, setting Memphis’s already raw nerve endings on fire, only to thrust back in hard enough to curl his toes in his shoes. But it was more than physical. Preacher watched him like there was nobody else in the world but him, like it was so much more than just sex, than just two people making each other feel good. Preacher watched him like he could read his mind if he just looked deeply enough into his eyes. And it was just all so much.
If it was anybody else, Memphis would have been humiliated by the way his nails bit into Preacher’s skin and moans fell from his lips every time his cock dragged across Memphis’s prostate, making his cock drool onto Preacher’s belly.
He wanted to touch himself, needed to, really, but with the material of his sweatpants bunched between them and the precarious way he was perched in Preacher’s lap, he was totally at his mercy. It was insanely frustrating and impossibly sexy.
“Preacher,” he whined, hoping the desperation in his voice might force him to pick up the pace. Instead, it somehow only turned up the intensity of his gaze until Memphis was a shivering mess, only made worse when Preacher dropped his hands to Memphis’s ass, spreading him so he could fuck him even deeper.
“Fuck, you’re so wet for me, so full. I could do this all day. Just keep you plugged up until it’s time for me to breed you over and over again.”
Memphis’s brain fell offline for a full thirty seconds at Preacher’s dirty words, then he was cupping his face, looking into his eyes. “Do it, fill me up. I want to feel it. I need to feel it.”
Preacher dragged him in for a kiss, muttering against his lips, “Uh-uh. You do it. You want my cum? Take it.”
Memphis froze. This was so much easier with Preacher in charge. “I—”
Preacher spit in his hand, reaching under the material of Memphis’s sweats to wrap a hand around his aching cock. “Don’t think about it. Just do it. It’s just me. Just us. Fuck yourself on my cock, make yourself feel good. I promise that’s all I’ll need.”
