He lifts his hips, leaning forward so his forehead is pressed against his forearms, the most beautiful art in this room.
“Aw hell,” I grunt, gripping his hips as I bottom out. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. Keep still,” I beg, nearly going over again.
We breathe in sync, connected. Several seconds pass, and I thrust forward: deep, hard, brutal.
“Yes,” he chokes out.
Another thrust, and he whimpers.
Knowing we’re riding on the same edge of desperation, I nearly lose my mind. Unable to maintain the slow pace, I fuck him hard.
“Everyone on the planet wants this perfect ass,” I growl. “But it belongs to me.”
“Only you,” he chokes out.
My hips take over, thrusting, tilting, finding that perfect angle for his ultimate pleasure, giving him everything I’m capable of.
“Close,” he warns, and I immediately slow down.
“Bastard.”
“You know it,” I say, grinning as I drag us onto our sides.
Tossing my leg over his hip, I slow my thrusts to a glacial pace. In and out, gentle where I was once brutal.
“I fucking love this body of yours,” I say, biting his shoulder, palming the sideways curve of his hip. “Such a pretty muscle bottom.”
My hand drifts to his pec, cupping it, teasing the nipple with my thumb, and I bury myself deeper than before. With one final pinch of his nipple, I drag my hand down past his abs to his bobbing, angry cock. I know he’s desperate for me to grip him, to jack him while fucking into him.
Instead, I gently, carefully, stretch and pull on his foreskin, slicking it down and up over his sensitive head.
“Coming,” he warns me, even though I know he’s desperate.
I slide my hand to the base of his cock, gripping it tightly. “Not. Yet,” I say, even as I increase my thrusts.
“I need it,” he begs. “Please let me.”
I tighten my grip, and he chokes out a simple, devastating, “Please.”
As if I could hold out for a second longer.
I release the tight grip, letting the blood rush his poor, abused member as I crank up and down his shaft. His body glitches, twitching here and there as I wring pleasure from him. He tosses his head back, catching my cheekbone, fucking my hand until he stiffens, going off like a champagne cork.
“Yeah, baby.”Buried deep, short thrusts.“Come for me.”
He’s still coming as my own orgasm finally cannot be denied a second longer. Shouting, I release, filling him, needing him. Loving him.
And that is the truth I can no longer deny.
The words spill forth like water, inevitable. “I love you too,” I whisper, thrusting one last time. “I need you. So much.”
We lie there, a mess, the real world just outside the door.
“Whatever happens, we have each other,” I say, knowing he needs to hear it. Knowing I need to hear it. “Never doubt that.”
33
MAVERICK
