Down my body he moved, mapping territory with lips and teeth and tongue. Across my ribs. Along the curve of my hip. His fingers hooked into my swim trunks, dragging them down in one smooth motion. Standing naked in front of him while he remained in his shorts felt unbalanced. Vulnerable in the best way. His gaze traveled over me slowly, appreciatively, like he was memorizing details.
“Fuck, look at you.” The reverence in his voice made heat pool low in my stomach.
Then his mouth was on me, taking my cock deep without warning or hesitation. My knees nearly buckled. One hand gripped the dresser beside me while the other tangled in his hair.
“Elijah, holy—”
Whatever I’d meant to say dissolved into a moan as he hollowed his cheeks, tongue working the underside of my shaft. Five years of wondering what this would feel like, and my imagination hadn’t come close. His hands gripped my hips, holding me steady as he worked me with single-minded focus.
“Been wanting to taste you,” he said, pulling off just long enough to speak before swallowing me down again. “Wanted to see you come apart.”
My hips jerked forward involuntarily. He took it, encouraged it with the grip on my hips, letting me fuck into his mouth while he watched me through his lashes.
“Not going to last,” I gasped.
He pulled off with an obscene pop. “Good. Want you relaxed for what comes next.”
Before I could process that, he was standing, spinning me around to face the dresser. His shorts hit the floor. Then his body pressed against my back, his erection hard against my ass.
“Tell me you want this,” he said against my ear.
“Want everything. Want you.”
A drawer opened beside me. The click of a bottle cap. Then his slick fingers were circling my entrance, teasing, before one pushed inside. Slowly. Carefully. My forehead dropped to rest on my arms as he worked me open.
“That's it,” he murmured. “So good for me.”
Another finger joined the first, stretching, scissoring. Finding that spot inside that made me see stars. My cock jumped, already hard again despite having just come.
“Please,” I heard myself say. “Need you.”
“Soon.” A third finger now, the stretch burning in the best way. “Not going to hurt you. Going to make this so good.”
When he finally pulled his fingers free, I nearly sobbed at the loss. But then the blunt head of his cock pressed against me, pushing past that ring of muscle with steady pressure.
“Breathe,” he coached, one hand stroking my spine. “Just breathe.”
Inch by inch he filled me, until his hips pressed flush against my ass. We stayed like that for a moment, both adjusting, both breathing hard.
“Move,” I managed. “Please move.”
He did. Long, slow strokes that had me gripping the dresser hard enough to leave marks. Each thrust angled just right to drag across that spot inside me, causing me to groan.
“Wanted this for so long,” he said, voice wrecked. “Wanted to see you like this, fucked out, desperate for my dick.”
My cock leaked steadily onto the dresser, untouched and aching. When I reached for it, he caught my wrist.
“Not yet. Want to see if you can come just from this.”
The pace increased, his hips snapping forward with more force. The sound of skin against skin filled the cabin, mixed with our ragged breathing and the moans I couldn’t hold back.
“That's it,” he said. “Let me hear you.”
Like I had a choice. Every thrust punched sounds out of me, desperate and needy. My whole body felt electric, tension coiling tighter and tighter.
“Close,” I gasped.
“Come on then. Come for me.”
