His head tips back, his eyes close and his lips part to let a soft moan out as he sinks down. My hands grip his waist and I guide him down my length, a much louder groan escaping my mouth.
“Fuck, you feel so good,” I tell him.
He nods and bites his lip. I wonder, stupidly, if there are things he wants to say to me about how it feels – physically and emotionally – for him, but I kick that possibility away. That’s when he starts to move.
Using those powerful quads, he rises up and then lowers himself, stroking the full length of me. He does it again, just as slow, and then falls into a perfect rhythm.
I feel mesmerised watching him, like I couldn’t pull my eyes away from him even if a plane crashed into his bedroom window. Digging my fingers into his hips, I help him lift up and then lower. I grunt each and every time he has me fully inside him.
“Fuck, those noises,” he says and his eyes find mine.
“I know, I’m noisy,” I say with a coy smile.
“I love it,” he says, a little breathless.
That word.Love. Why does it feel so very close and yet so far away?
“I love watching you fuck me,” I say, because I do. I could watch this for the rest of my life. “Does it feel good to you, baby?” I lift one of my hands to stroke his face. “Tell me it feels good to you.”
He closes his eyes and for a second a pained flinch twists his features. But then he recovers. “Yeah, it feels good. So good.”
That’s when he starts to speed up. He slides up and down me at a pace I know would have my legs shaking, and yet aside from a light sheen of sweat on his forehead and his abs, Giles seems completely in his element.
Maybe this is why he trains so hard? So he can fuck with superhuman strength.
As if to prove my hypothesis, he stops suddenly and rearranges his legs. In a second, he’s got his feet flat on the bed and he leans forward a little, in a squatting position, my dick still deep inside me. And then he fucks me like that.
“Oh,merda.Cazzu diaulu. Shit,” I grit out.
Giles’ only response is a soft hum. His face is full of concentration, just like it is the very few times I’ve seen him push himself in the gym. Hishard dick slaps against my stomach and I have a moment wondering how tragic it would have been if I’d lived my life without this. Because it’s beautiful. It’s so fucking hot. But it’s not what I want right now. It’s not how I want to come.
I let him continue until I’m close, but then I grab hold of him around his waist and throw us onto our side. He looks startled for a second but then his concern melts away as I push up on top of him and settle between his open legs. I push myself deep inside him again and then I stay like that for a second. His ocean eyes search mine, waiting for my next move. It's clear when I lower my face to his that he doesn’t expect me to kiss him, but it’s what I do.
We kiss slowly, lazily, luxuriously, until it deepens and our bodies start to move. I fuck him gently. I reach a hand back and wrap his legs around me. I grunt in his ear and tell him again how good he feels.
“Marcello, I—” he says and I have the gut feeling he wants to say something important but I am having a rare moment when I don’t want words. I just want… this. Our bodies connected, our breaths mingling, our sweat making us slide over each other.
“Later.” I kiss the tips of his nose. “We’ll talk later. Right now I just want to make you feel good.”
“You are. You do. Please don’t stop,” he pleads and I apply a bit more force to my thrusts.
We rock like that together for many long, never-ending minutes. The only sounds in the room are the bedsheets rustling beneath us, our gasps and groans and grunts, and small perfect words like ‘please’ and ‘fuck’ and ‘yes’.
I don’t tell Giles when I’m about to come. I have this sense he knows already and I decide to have faith in it. Besides, I’ve already decided how he’s going to come if he doesn’t already.
I bury my face in his shoulder and rut into him until I explode, bringing a kaleidoscope of light and colour and shapes into the darkness Ifind between him and the bed. I swear in English, in Sardo, in Italian and in other languages that don’t exist. I tremble and I press into him as deeply as I can, never wanting to leave.
But I do move. When I don’t feel wet between us and his hands start to stroke my back, not grip my buttcheeks like they were a minute a go, I disentangle myself from his hold, pull out and keep one hand on the top of the condom so it doesn’t come off.
I then slide down his body and take his dick in my mouth. It’s not as hard as I expect, or my ego wants, but in seconds that changes and it’s filling my mouth and stretching my lips.
Giles’ fingers come to my hair and he moans as I flick the underside of his head with the tip of my tongue.
“Fuck my mouth, baby,” I tell him, lifting my eyes to his.
He looks down at me and I see doubt, then worry, then excitement flash across his face.
He grips both sides of my jaw and lifts me ever so slightly. “Ready?”
