Or give up on sex… Ledger trailed his tongue along the taut underside of Wren’s cock from balls to tight, flushed head in one long swipe… and that wasn’t in the cards.
“Fuck,” Wren groaned. He reached out and cupped his hand around the back of Ledger’s head, fingers woven through short-cropped blond curls. “That feels good.”
Ledger wrapped his mouth around the head and sucked on it. Then he took as much of the length of the shaft into his mouth as he could.
When he felt it hit the back of his throat, he pulled back, letting the wet length of Wren’s cock slip free of his mouth. Wren’s fingers tightened briefly around the back of Ledger’s skull and then relaxed. When Ledger glanced up, Wren’s pleasure-glazed attention was on the spit-slick length of his cock as it hung in the air.
Ledger wrapped his hand around the head, slippery and hot, and pushed it down. He worked the wet mixture of spit and pre-come along the shaft until the whole length of it was glazed and slippery. Then he wrapped his lips around it again, his tongue pushed up against the underside as it slid deeper into his mouth.
His own cock was so hard that the fabric of the chinos against it felt like sandpaper. His balls ached, hot and heavy, at how thick Wren felt in his mouth. At how much thicker he’d feel in Ledger’s ass. Anticipation pulled tight and hard in his gut, a fierce tug of need that ran hot wires along his taint and down his thighs.
Finally, he pulled away and sat back, the tension in his thigh muscles misfiring sparks of pleasure along his nerves. He wiped the back of his hand over his mouth and held the other out to Wren.
“Now, why don’t you—”
Wren grabbed his wrist, pulled him to his feet, and turned him around to shove him up against the side of the pickup in one smooth blur of movement. The metal was cold against Ledger’s stomach, and his breath misted the glass as he rested his forehead on the window. Wren pressed up against his back and chewed a kiss into the crook of his shoulder.
“Thanks, but I’ve got it from here,” he said.
“I mean, I did the hard work,” he said, leaning in to kiss the corner of Wren’s mouth. “But if you’re sure.”
Wren turned into the kiss, his teeth sharp as he chewed on Ledger’s lips and nipped at his tongue. He hooked one arm around Ledger’s throat to hold him still while undoing his chinos with the other. Apparently, he didn’t mind tasting himself. That was good to know.
“I’ve never fucked a guy before,” Wren said matter-of-factly as he pushed Ledger’s trousers down roughly. Ledger made an uncertain sound in the back of his throat over that bit of information, but Wren ignored him as he pulled Ledger’s ass cheeks apart. “But I’ll bet I’m good at it.”
His thumb nudged at Ledger’s asshole. He sucked in a breath and held it, his lower lip clenched between his teeth as he waited for it to hurt. Instead, Wren pulled his hand back and slapped Ledger’s ass. The crack of flesh on flesh was very loud.
“Don’t worry,” Wren said. “I’ve seen it in porn.”
Ledger snorted. His smart retort died somewhere between him thinking it up and his throat as he felt lube-slicked fingers slip into his ass. It turned into a groan, and he bit his lip harder as he pushed his hips back against Wren’s hand.
His cock was so hard it ached as it nudged against his stomach. Ledger reached down toward it, but before he could wrap his fingers around the hard shaft, Wren growled in his ear.
“I’ll say when you touch it,” he said. “Hands on the truck.”
“Don’t get carried away,” Ledger grumbled. “It’s not porn. I don’t get paid to take your shit.”
“Hands,” Wren repeated. “On the truck.”
Ledger did as he was told. He’d justify it to himself later. Wren pushed his fingers deep inside Ledger one last time and then pulled them out. The hollow ache they left made Ledger whimper, even though he expected it wouldn’t last long.
He was right.
It didn’t. The blunt, insistent pressure of Wren’s cock pushed between Ledger’s ass cheeks and against him. Inside him.
“God,” Ledger groaned as the width of the cock stretched him wide. It felt bigger in his ass than it had in his mouth.
Wren grinned against Ledger’s throat.
“Good guess,” he said. “But I’m not that either.”
The magpie archivist in Ledger’s brain filed that away with all the other shiny bits of information that might come in handy someday. Like, a dour mental voice reminded him, if Ledger lived through this and it turned out that sex with an unidentified unnatural was something that had consequences.
That thought did give Ledger pause. For a moment. Then Wren licked the soft spot right behind Ledger’s ear, and whatever you wanted to call that doubt—common sense, self-preservation—was doused under a wash of heat and pleasure.
He let it happen.
Wren’s free hand dropped down to Ledger’s hip. He tightened his grip as he pushed himself into Ledger with slow, careful thrusts. Ledger rocked back into each stroke. He reached back with one hand and grabbed Wren’s ass to pull him deeper with each thrust.
