“Ask me, Luke,” his voice was commanding, but strained with his own pleasure. “Ask me for what you want.”
Apparently being bossed around by a gorgeous, angelic blond half my size absolutely did it for me. Who knew? “Please, Ollie, can I cum?”
“Get your hand on my cock,” he panted, not stopping his rhythm. “Make me cum with you.”
Reaching between us, I wrapped my hand around his cock, already flushed and leaking, and began to stroke him in sync with his frenzied pace, every pump matching the bounce of his hips.
Slamming his ass down onto my pelvis, he rode me harder, and as he did, I thrust my hips up, matching his pace, meeting his downward movements.
“Luke,” he gasped, his body convulsing. He came across my fist, streaking my stomach.
The clench of his ass squeezing around me was too much. The orgasm I’d been holding back came barreling through me like the bulls of Pamplona, a stampede of every good thing I’d ever felt in my life all at once. Hips jerking, teeth grinding, I emptied myself into him with an animal moan.
In the aftermath, we lay there, chests pressed together, both of us panting.
“Wow,” I began. “I’m pretty sure I came so hard I astral projected. Like, I think I saw my own soul wave at me on the way out.”
He emitted a soft, giddy sound, his lips grazing across mine in a light, affectionate touch. “Love you.”
“Do you love me enough to do all the post-sex cleanup, because I don’t think I can summon the will to move? I’m pretty sure my legs don’t remember what walking is. You might need to carry me to the shower and feed me grapes while fanning me with a palm branch.”
He snorted, burying his face in my neck. “Excuse you, but I’m the one who just impaled myself on your oversized dick. If anyone deserves to be handfed grapes while reclining in a satin robe, it’s me.”
“Mmm. Valid. However, you did just ride me like your life depended on it, and as the old wisdom goes, you don’t ride a horse hard and put him up wet. I need a full rubdown after expending such energy.”
He pressed a kiss to the hollow of my neck. “Alright, pillow princess.”
“I can’t tell if that’s meant to be a compliment or an insult. Your tone implies there’s mockery involved, but the fond little smile on your face tells me you might actually mean it with affection.”
“Well, if we follow your ironclad logic that when there are two interpretations you always pick the more flattering one, it’s a compliment.”
“Ha! I knew I was rubbing off on you.”
“I mean, you did quite literally just rub off inside me.”
“Oh ho, jokes after a wicked, mind-melting orgasm. I really am rubbing off on you. Did my sperm fertilize your sense of humor?”
“I can’t take this level of ridiculousness while still being post-coital.”
“Pfft, this is the best post-orgasmic sex conversation you’ve ever had, admit it.”
“Maybe,” he conceded. “But only because it’s you and I’ve developed a profound affection for your brand of absurdity.”
“I’ll take it,” I murmured, kissing the crown of his head. “Now, for real, how are you doing? I think I unlocked a new plane of existence, but as you mentioned, I wasn’t the one who just took a sledgehammer up the butt.”
“Best pounding I’ve ever been gifted, I assure you. I loved every second. Forget fireworks, you set off canons.”
“Good, I only ever want you to feel good when we’re together. Speaking of, you mentioned royal treatment, and I am inclined to agree. It just so happens I’ve procured, for this specific occasion, a top-tier, specially recommended, ultra-gentle exfoliator formulated for post-sex skin. And I intend to use it on you.”
“You bought an exfoliator specifically for post-sex skin? Are you for real?”
“You better believe it, sweet cheeks, but that’s not all. After, you’re going to soak in a warm bath with Epsom salts, because they’re great for muscle recovery and relaxation after a rigorous anal lovemaking sesh, so I’ve read. And then I’m going to rub some extra-soothing fragrance-free Curel into that divine bum of yours until it is soothed, moisturized, and praised like it deserves.”
“You . . . what?”
“You weren’t the only one making plans last week for our sexual future. I may or may not have done some, let’s call it proactive research, and stocked up on some supplies in case this moment ever arrived. I might’ve been a newbie at ass-taking as of twenty minutes ago, but even I’m well aware aftercare is important. And I want to make sure I do it right.”
“I take back the pillow princess comment,” Oliver said. “You’re an aftercare king.”
