“Alright.” Beckett kissed the corner of Rhys’s mouth, and Rhys dragged his hands up Beckett’s sides, cradling his face and holding him still for another kiss.
“I don’t have any more calls today,” Rhys murmured against him.
“That’s a relief.”
“The groceries aren’t here yet.”
“Oh, no,” he mocked horror, but it sounded breathy and fake, even to his own ears.
Rhys kissed his way across Beckett’s face to his ear. “Are you against taking a cock in your ass?”
“Not generally,” he rasped.
“Would you take mine?”
“Hopefully someday.”
Rhys walked them to the bedroom, further back, until Beckett’s knees hit the edge of the mattress. The bed wasn’t made and he fell onto the tangled sheets, immediately becoming enveloped in the smell of Rhys. He rose onto his elbows and tugged his shirt off, watching the way Rhys watched him while he worked open the buttons of his dress shirt.
Rhys looked like a man with a singular focus, his stare never leaving Beckett’s face. While Rhys undid his belt, Beckett scrambled out of his pants. He slid up toward the pillows, and Rhys climbed onto the bed, bracketing him in. Beckett’s pulse thrummed with want, his cock still achingly hard from listening to Rhys on the phone.
Beckett trembled at the thought of what it would feel like to have Rhys inside of him, and it was good to know Rhys wasn’t against the idea himself, but all of that would have to wait.
“Today’s not my day?” Rhys whispered, reaching for the nightstand to get lube and a condom. He dropped the lube into Beckett’s waiting palm, then tore open the condom and with a torturously light grip, rolled it down Beckett’s erection.
“I just…” Beckett didn’t know how to explain it, and Rhys quieted him with a lazy smile.
“It’s okay, darling.” Rhys took the lube out of Beckett’s hand, since Beckett hadn’t made a move with it, and drizzled some down the length of Beckett’s cock. Rhys straddled him with little preamble and no prep, reaching back and adjusting the angle of Beckett’s dick so his latex covered head brushed against Rhys’s hole.
“I don’t want to hurt you.” Beckett reached to stop him, aware that they hadn’t played around to get Rhys ready.
“I can take it,” Rhys said.“I want to.”
Beckett didn’t let go of his hold on Rhys’s wrist, instead helping to guide Rhys down onto his waiting dick.
“You’re so tight,” Beckett whispered.
Beckett rolled his lips between his teeth, as if that would do anything to help him stay sane while buried inside of Rhys’s hot channel.
“Stretch me out then,” Rhys moaned, sounding as overcome as Beckett felt.
“Jesus.” Rhys dropped his chin to his chest, looking down at the place where their bodies were joined.
“Come on.” Beckett flexed his fingers around Rhys’s waist, and Rhys shivered, his stare flickering up to Beckett’s face. “Come on, Rhys.”
Rhys’s expression flickered and then he started to move, lifting and lowering himself onto Beckett’s cock with so much barely restrained strength, Beckett did worry Rhys would shatter the baseboards of the bed. It was what he needed, though. What they both needed, a rough and primal connection that always simmered under the surface of their interactions, never quite breaking the surface.
Rhys’s chest was slick with his own sweat and cum by the time Beckett came. With the exception of the way his cock throbbed and stretched Rhys’s hole, Beckett went completely still, shooting into the condom with a pained groan. Rhys writhed on top of him, falling forward with one hand on the pillow, the other carding through Beckett’s hair while he kissed his way around his neck.
It hurt to breathe. Not from Rhys’s weight on top of him, and not from being out of breath. It hurt because Beckett felt so…big, like his body could barely contain him any longer. Like something had shifted; something had happened. He drew swirls in the pools of sweat that decorated the dips at the small of Rhys’s back and closed his eyes, but the room around him spun and swam, filled with stars.
“Rhys,” he whispered, wrapping his legs around the backs of Rhys’s thighs, keeping their bodies joined. He didn’t know what he wanted to say besides everything was perfect and beautiful and he was so undeserving of it all.
But Rhys pressed a kiss against the side of his neck and said it first. “Beckett, I think I’m in love with you.”
CHAPTERTWENTY-ONE
RHYS NEEDS OUTSIDE HELP
