“Do it. Now,” he said, and he reached down, probably to tilt his cock at the right angle. I let out a long breath and relaxed my leg muscles enough to drop onto him. I grunted as gravity did its work and my arsehole was forced to stretch around him a lot faster than I would’ve if I’d been on a bed.
“Feck,” I grumbled as he speared me open, and he kissed me. He’d used enough lube that while things were uncomfortable, they weren’t bad. The way he nudged my prostate had my cock twitching with pleasure. I didn’t hate relying on Aspen to balance us as much as I’d thought I would, and when he started to fuck me, it felt brilliant. I tightened my grip on him and rocked my lower body, chasing after the sparks of pleasure he smashed through my insides with his cock.
“Does it feel good?” he asked in my ear.
I wanted to snap and snarl at him about treating mea certain way, but when I glanced into his eyes I stopped and nodded. Aspen picked up the pace. He’d teased me too long and I was desperate for this. I kissed him and moved with him, shuddering each time he bumped over my prostate. I drove myself down on his thick shaft, and he hummed, forcing me harder against the wall, then hammered his cock into me. I knocked my head back and hissed when it gave a painful throb. There was a bruise back there somewhere, but I didn’t give two shites about it right now.
“Feck, do me, Aspen. Damn it.” That heavy warmth that wasn’t quite like getting off by jerking my cock trembled on the edge of exploding and began to take over all my concentration.
He laughed and the sexy sound hit me just the right way because I’d always loved it. I froze as waves of heat rolled out through me and seemed to chase down my thighs. The soft punch of joy was still strange after getting off with my cock for most of my life, but the sweet bliss that loosened my muscles on a euphoric wave kept going as he fucked. The pleasure reminded me of how Aspen had taken his time with me—this was just another way he made the ecstasy linger. I didn’t blow my load like usual, and the lack of cum was so fecking odd, even though theOwas perfect. I’d heard that sometimes blokes dry fired with a prostate orgasm, but I’d never thought I would experience it.
“Feck, Aspen,” I groaned out and dug my fingers into his back muscles.
“I’m here. I’m going to fill you up till you leak.” He nipped at my earlobe.
Grinning, I nodded. “Aye. Do it.”
He kissed me and took over my mouth, and I was happy to let him as I rode a few aftershocks with him still smashing into my arse. Then he drilled deep and stayed there, cock twitching.
“Ye’re a good kisser,” I said as he stilled, holding me in place. “Don’t think that’s enough to leak out of me, though. Ye might need to do it again.”
He stared at me.
I frowned. “What?”
“You’re being sweet.” He smirked. “I fucked the meanness out of you.”
“Put me down. Ye did not.”
He didn’t move, only leaned in and kissed me again. I didn’t exactly shove him off, either. Maybe I even dragged him closer. After a while he patted my thigh, and I carefully stretched out to touch my feet to the floor.
“Ye’re fecking strong.”
“You could do this with me,” he said, the corner of his mouth twisted into a self-satisfied smirk. “Maybe.”
“Aye, I could. And I’d be damned good at it, too.” I cleared my throat.
His expression went smug. “I’m taller.”
“Ye really want to start some shite with me right now, don’t ye?”
He laughed and took my hand, dragging me over to the bed. The fecker was lucky he looked good flopping on his back on the mattress. His cock was still thick and eager, and I fully planned to tease him back to life in a minute, after I caught my breath. I was a little more careful as I followed him down because of his shoulder. Aspen held me close, and I rested my head on his chest.
“M’fecking exhausted,” I said.
“Rest while we can.” He kissed my forehead.
A light rapping on the door had me tensing. “Lads.” Jamie’s unhappy tone carried in. “Pack up. Sloan says we’re going home.”
My blood ran cold. “Feck, I was right. We’re finished.”
21
ASPEN
Sleep was inevitable,even with our brains wired and Cillian worried he would lose his head for our failures. We crashed into slumberland on the plane. Our seats, which were directly beside each other, facing the front, were reclined and in the most comfortable position possible. Between us on my right was a small table and Cillian was holding my hand on it, my fingers clutched tightly in his as we went to sleep. We were still grasping each other when I woke up.
My eyes burned from tiredness, and it took me longer than I would’ve liked to admit to finally open my eyes to glance around the small sitting area. Across the aisle from us, in a seat facing the rear of the plane, Corbin was still asleep, his head thrown back with a newspaper over the top half and mouth open as if he was trying to catch flies.
