So instead of ramming into him like I wanted, I parted his ass cheeks, rubbing my thumbs in circles over his hole, sliding the tip of one, then the other inside him, just enough to penetrate. Not enough to do anything but frustrate him.
“Perry!”
“Relax.”
“Fuck me.”
I pushed both thumbs in to the first knuckle and he groaned. But his head dropped and his back muscles relaxed as he rocked back onto my thumbs, forcing them in a little deeper.
A sigh bled out of him.
“Please,” he begged. “Want it so bad.”
He did. I knew that. He always did, and I loved that uninhibited part of him, even if half the time, I didn’t feel like I could hope to keep up.
Easing my thumbs free, I held his cheeks apart and aimed. Resting the head of my dick against his opening. “How bad do you want it?” I asked, stopping there, exposing him, teasing him with the feel of imminent penetration, but doing nothing.
“Sooo bad.” A shudder ran through him and he whimpered.
I tightened my grip on his hips, so he knew I had him. “Gonna ream you,” I promised.
He nodded, emphatic, shivering harder, doing his best not to push back and take what he wanted. Waiting was the hardest thing for him. Taking him the way he wanted, deep in his soul, was hard for me.
I appreciated he kept me anyway.
Bracing myself, I pushed into him, hard, steady, not as fast as he probably wanted, but as fast as I could make myself go, especially when I heard his gasp and the catch of his breath as the stretch and burn hit him.
“Oh fuck,” he whispered, and then, before I could do anything as rash as pull out, or hesitate, he rocked back, impaling himself the rest of the way onto my dick with a shout of satisfaction.
It was how he rolled. He knew better than to let me go at my own speed if he was going to get the fucking he wanted.
So I obliged him, pulling back, ramming back in, fucking hard, listening to his grunts and gasps, waiting for the sounds that told me I had the right angle. After that, it was fast, hard, and dirty.
I tried to outlast him, but like always, hard as I tried, I wasn’t quite enough to get him off before I blew my own load. Like always, he didn’t complain.
I hauled him up, still inside him, thrusting a few more times while I jacked his cock and he wrapped an arm around to grip the back of my head.
It wasn’t a good angle to keep me seated, but it didn’t matter at that point, as his hips started moving to the rhythm of my strokes. I wrapped my other hand around the base of his jaw, drawing his head back onto my shoulder and he moaned, finally stiffening in my grip and spurting his come over my fingers.
“Oh fuck, oh fuck. Fu-uck.” He wilted and I had to wrap an arm around his chest to keep him on his feet. “Baby,” he whispered, leaning back into me.
I laid kisses down his neck, along his earlobe, and he shivered and sighed. “I fucking love you, you know,” I said against his skin. “So much.” I needed him to know that. I needed it soaked into his skin, baked into his bones for the day when he realized, finally, that I really wasn’t enough for him.
He swivelled and twisted until he was facing me, our now flaccid cocks nesting together, and wrapped his arms around me. It felt so good to be wrapped up in him, for that short moment, held together as he nuzzled his face into my wild curls.
“Love you too, Pere. Can’t believe you keep me.” He squeezed until I couldn’t breathe. “Thank you.”
He was ridiculous. Of course I kept him. He was the prize. I was the lucky one. I hadn’t expected him to listen to me at that party when I’d told him to get up and get dressed. Hadn’t expected him to follow me out the door, or sit in the diner all night eating twenty-four-hour breakfast.
When he’d followed me home, asked to go to the curling rink with me, kissed me in the parking lot, I hadn’t had the guts to tell him I was probably the kind of guy he usually avoided. Too dull. Too straight. Too plain. Toome.
Yet here we still were and I wasn’t about to lie to myself and say I understood it.
CHAPTER 7
EVAN
Showering with Perryafter the over-the-couch sex was sweet. He was always so sweet after, like he thought he needed to butter me up or something bad might happen. He never seemed to get that it wasn’t necessary. I was hooked. He had me.
