"Fuck," he groans, the word punched out of him.
I start moving, rocking forward, sliding against him. The friction is incredible, his cock hot and hard against mine, the slickness of our precum making the glide smooth anddevastating. I set a rhythm that has both of us panting, finding that perfect pace that builds and builds without tipping over.
His hands tighten on my hips, fingers digging into my flesh, and I fucking love it. He's guiding my movements now, and we find a pace together. Not too fast, not too slow. Just right. Just perfect.
Every slide of skin on skin sends sparks up my spine. Every time the head of his cock catches against mine, we both gasp. Heat builds between us, sweat starts to form where our bodies press together.
"Devon," he gasps.
"Yeah?"
"I want—" He cuts himself off, looking almost frustrated, like he can't find the words for what he needs.
"Take it. Take whatever you want."
Instead of answering with words, he flips us.
One second I'm on top, in control, setting the pace, the next I'm on my back with Ace hovering over me. The sudden reversal makes my head spin and my cock throb.
"This," he says, settling between my legs, his hips cradled by my thighs. "I want this."
His weight presses me into the mattress, solid and warm. Our cocks align perfectly, the angle somehow even better than before, and he rocks his hips experimentally. I arch up to meet him, and the pressure, the friction, the heat—it's different like this. Deeper. More intimate.
"Fuck," I moan, unable to form anything more coherent. "Ace—"
He buries his face in my neck, mouth hot and wet against my skin, and his hips keep moving, adjusting the angle, like he's figured out exactly what drives me insane. Each thrust grinds our cocks together, the pressure maddening.
I wrap my legs around his waist, heels digging into his ass, changing the angle again. He groans into my neck, the vibration traveling through me, and his rhythm falters for just a second before he finds it again.
"That's—fuck—Devon—"
"Don't stop. Please don't stop now."
His thrusts get faster, more desperate, the control starting to slip. I can feel it in the way his muscles tremble, in the way his breath comes in harsh pants against my throat. I'm right there with him, pleasure building low in my gut, intensifying with every slide of his cock against mine.
The sounds we're making fill the room—gasps and groans and the slick slide of skin on skin. The bed creaks slightly under us, adding to the symphony.
I reach between us, wrapping my hand around both of us again, adding that extra pressure, that extra friction. My hand is slick with precum, making it perfect.
And that's it. That's what tips him over.
"Devon—I'm—fuck—"
"Come for me. Comeonme."
He breaks with a shout, his whole body going rigid, every muscle locking up. I feel the hot splash of his cum between us, coating my hand, my stomach, painting my skin with his pleasure. His cock pulses in my grip, each spurt accompanied by a full-body shudder.
The sensation, the= heat, the wetness, the way he's completely lost in it, is enough to end me. My orgasm crashes through me and I come too, adding to the mess between us, my vision going white at the edges, pleasure rolling through me in waves that seem to go on forever. My cock jerks in my hand, mixing our releases together until I can't tell where his ends and mine begins.
Ace collapses on top of me, breathing hard, his full weight pressing me into the mattress. I hold him there, running my hands over his sweat-slick back, feeling the rapid flutter of his heartbeat against my chest. His cock is still pressed against mine, both of us softening slowly in the aftermath.
We lie there for a while, catching our breath, coming down. The city lights continue their silent show outside the windows, oblivious to the fact that my entire world just shifted on its axis.
Eventually Ace rolls off me, and we're both sticky, and gross, and I don't care about any of it.
His hand finds mine on the mattress, fingers threading together.
"We should probably clean up," he says after a moment.
