Every pass of his hand up my length is like a hot, electric pulse up my spine. When he sucks on me, my back arcs off the bed.
“More,” I manage to say, my mouth dry.
To be completely contrary, he releases me and moves back up the bed, his knees astride my thighs until our cocks are lined up. He reaches for the lube, pouring a generous amount into the palm of his hand, and then he grips us both, forcing our cocks against each other.
And then he begins to jerk the two of us off with one hand.
“I mean it, Garrett. I want more tonight. I want you.”
He smiles down at me then, eyes so intense and filled with need that the worries I had earlier evaporate. I can see by the way he looks at me, his feelings are as strong as ever. Any weirdness only ever comes from the internal narrative he has. That he’s taking other opportunities for different relationships away from me. That I’m going to realize what he thinks everyone else sees.
That he’s not worth loving.
Fool that he is.
I’m not going anywhere.
Not when he looks at me like this.
He strokes us painfully slowly, the lube spreading over both our shafts.
“More,” I gasp, and I slide my hand over his, forcing his fingers tighter.
Garrett sucks in a breath. “Fuck, you’re perfect.” He brushes my hand away and releases us. “Turn over.”
He lifts off me and scooches down the bed a little as I roll onto my stomach. Garrett palms the cheeks of my ass, spreading me open, exhaling an appreciative groan.
“You ready?” He trails his lubed fingers down between my cheeks.
Garrett works a thick finger into my asshole, making me groan into the pillow. My hips jerk back voluntarily. My cock twitching against the mattress.
“Easy,” he murmurs. “Let me stretch you.”
“I’ve been waiting all day,” I grit out. “Just fuck me already.”
Garrett laughs, a deep, rough sound that does as much for my patience as his finger. He adds a second one, and I feel the stretch.
“You want my cock that bad?” He leans over me, so his breath hits my ear.
“Yes.”
“You gonna take me like a good boy?”
“Don’t I always?”
He pulls his fingers out, and I hear him slicking himself up with more lube. The slippery wet sound is obscene and perfect. He drizzles more lube over my hole, cold against my heated skin, and I gasp.
Then, the blunt head of him presses against me in that thick, unyielding way that makes my knees weak. He pushes in slow, at first. Controlled, but gentle. I feel every inch as he splits me open. The intensity steals my breath.
He works his way in like waves, forging forward, then retreating, until he bottoms out, hips flush to my ass.
Garrett grabs my shoulder, his fingertips biting into the tight muscle from the work we did in the last twenty-four hours. Using it as leverage, he withdraws, then thrusts home, hard.
“Listen to that,” he says.
There’s the wet slap of skin on skin, mixing with my murmured groans and curses. Garrett leans over me, chest pressed to my back, pushing me flat into the mattress as he fucks me deeper.
“You feel that?” he growls into my neck. “That’s me inside you. Filling you.”
