Farrow breathes, “It’s not just a trust thing then. You’re nervous?”
“A little bit.”
“A little bit,” he repeats like I’m underscoring the truth.
“A lot,” I correct.
“We’ll plan nights for it. It’ll be a process to work you up. Because you don’t relax easily.”
“I don’t?” I say sarcastically. To have even his fingers inside of me, I need to benotnervous, not tensed, not afraid—and that could take hours or days or weeks.
I want to try. With him. Only him.
I eye his lips and his piercing. “Do you want it?”
His brows rise like I can’t see what’s right in front of me. “Do I want to thrust my cock inside of you?”
My breath goes shallow. “Yeah, do you want to fuck me?”
His mouth brushes my ear. “Hard and badly.”
I buck up, our pelvises grinding together.
A noise catches in Farrow’s throat. He speaks quietly but rapidly, “This can go two ways tonight. One: I stay on top like this, and I’ll put your cock inside of me.” He’s a fucking power bottom. The guy pushes his ass against my dick almost every time we screw. So he’d have no problem doing the grunt work.
“Or you take me how you’ve fantasized me taking you.”
That.My cock responds tothat.His flexed muscles do too. I answer by pushing his chest up off mine. I’m aggressive in bed.
And every time I manhandle him, he lets out a breathy curse. An eroticfuckanddamn.I kneel beside him and tear open a condom. Sheathing my erection fast.
His breath quickens, stroking his cock while watching me.
Fuck me.
We’re both boiling at the delay. I reposition him. Shoving him down on all fours, his knees on the sleeping bags. Hands on the pillows.
Farrow cranes his neck over his shoulder, his mouth parted. He extends his arm behind him, gripping my ribs. I lube his hole, running my finger around the rim.
He groans as softly as he can, “Fuck.” I push two fingers inside, opening him.
I replace my fingers with my erection. Slowly, slowly sinking into Farrow.Christ, the pressure.I growl with clenched teeth, my eyes on fire. His hand tightens on my ribs.
His gaze flitting to mine, and we share this recognition: that one day this will be him; he’ll be knelt behind my ass, sinking deep, deep into me…
I’m all the way in, and I rock forward. Hands on his muscular hips. I thrust and thrust. He swings his head forward, drops his hand, needing to grip the ground. Somehow.
Closer.My body aches for contact.Closer.
Closer.
I want skin and friction and sweat.
I sink further into him, and he drops to his forearms, cursing a dizzying fucking curse. He bucks up into me.Fuck me.
My chest welds to his back, a sheen of sweat built on us both. I clutch him stronger, my biceps cut sharp.
Yes, fuck yes.The pressure, the friction, his muscular body and expression, us this close together—everythingcompounds together in a blood-pumping, mind-fucking wave.
