Not that I was just going to lie there and accept his attention, I was eager to run my hands over his broad shoulders and feel the way the muscles flexed and shifted. It wasn’t any wonder he could carry me like I was nothing. Then I slid them down his back and into the band of his underwear, when I pushed my armbetween our bodies and found his dick, half hard and quickly getting harder.
“You really should have been a model,” I told him as I pulled his cock free and wrapped my hands around it.
“Says the one who moves around this place like one,” he muttered, gripping my shirt and yanking it above my head.
“Patience is in short order today, I see,” I quipped when he didn’t waste time undoing the string of my loose pants, yanking them and my underwear off. Not that he was known for his patience when it came to sex, but lately, there was more aggression than usual. Not that he had doneanythingto make me worry that he was going to cross a line, but it was enough to notice the difference.
I was naked, and with a quick motion, he too was naked and hard as a rock before he descended on me. His lips closed around my dick, and I groaned my appreciation as he sank all the way to the base, his fingers caressing my thigh and then my balls. I swore softly when he reared back, only to take me down to the base again without so much as a moment’s hesitation. I had to admit that even if he was more aggressive in his approach to sex lately, and his otherwise lackluster behavior, the sex between us hadn’t been affected.
When he pulled off, it was to immediately dive down, pushing my legs up and sliding his tongue down until he could push it inside me. If there was one thing I could confidently say about Clay, it was that even when it was supposed to be a quickie, he never let me go without plenty of attention.
I swore again, running my hands through hair that hadn’t been cut in weeks, letting me tug on it as his tongue swirled around the nerves inside me that, while not as good as when his cock was deep inside me, was tantalizing and appreciated. My whole body felt alive with tingles, which grew stronger when he began stroking me as he shoved his tongue deeper.
“God, Clay,” I said softly, groaning when his eyes met mine, burning with clear desire as he continued without pause. “I?—”
Before I could figure out what I was going to say, he was up again, this time grabbing the lube that we never bothered to put away. No sooner had he opened the bottle than his mouth was on me again, making me forget whatever I was going to say. If there were ever a chance of me remembering, it was lost the moment I felt his fingers push in and curl inside me to find the nerves that forced a noise out of me normally reserved for slamming my shin into something, but apparently was the noise I needed when my boyfriend decided to massage my prostate while my dick was deep in his throat.
Boyfriend?
It was like he could read my mind and was trying to make sure I didn’t fall too far into the thoughts he was trying to avoid, because almost immediately, he was on his feet, keeping my legs pushed back. His cock jutted out from his body, bobbing heavily, and shining with lube that I hadn’t noticed he had stroked over himself until he was pulling me toward him. I felt the cool touch of the head pushing where his fingers had been seconds before.
“Oof,” I grunted when he pushed forward, and I felt the head, along with a couple of inches of his shaft, push into me.
“Sorry,” he said, looking surprised and even a little dismayed.
“You’re fine,” I said, despite the burning from his impatience. “A little eagerness here and there isn’t a bad thing.”
He looked chastised, though that wasn’t my intention, and he reached down to take me in his hand, stroking with his lube-covered fingers as he inched forward. It meant another inch or so of him sliding into me, but it allowed him to reach my mouth with his, which he covered fervently. To his credit, he’d checked himself because he was far more careful getting the rest of his dick into me until he was seated completely, my legs between us, his hand still stroking me lazily.
“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” he whispered against my lips, surprising me. He wasn’t normally talkative during sex, which was fine by me. It was obvious in everything else, including the sounds he made without reservation, that he was enjoying himself. “Fuck, I?—”
“What?” I asked as I could see something bouncing haphazardly in his eyes. “What is it?”
He buried his face in my neck and took a sharp breath, then began moving his hips. It took me a few strokes before I became aware that I was enjoying myself, and let the flash of...something in his eyes drift to the back of my thoughts.
His thrusts were shallow, but he stayed deep as he held me tight, so tight that it was a little worrying. Not fear of what he would do to me, but because it felt desperate, like he was holding tight in case he tried to float away or disappear. I held tight to him as well, groaning softly in his ear as he continued to thrust down into me, not in a rush, but not nearly as measured and purposeful as he normally was.
It was different, it was wrong, but then his angle changed, and pleasure lit through me in a flash that wiped out my other, more coherent thoughts. I clung to him as he moved at a fevered pace, thrusting in a way that left me helpless to do anything but gasp and groan. Even as I knew something was different, something was going on with Clay that I should be paying attention to, he was still focused on driving me crazy.
It was working too. I couldn’t think straight as he fucked me, gradually losing all pretense of being careful or measured. Not that I was going to complain, his aggression was working for me now I was loosened up, and my body was more than happy to take everything he had to give. In fact, I was steadily encouraging him, words spilling from my lips that begged and pleaded for more, to give me all that he could, to give me what we both wanted.
With a low noise, somewhere between a snarl and a hiss, he reared back, holding tight to the back of my thighs as he began to pound me with a renewed strength he had never used before. It wasalmostpainful, but the pleasure was too much; it was overwhelming and overriding every other signal my nerves could send. If I’d felt helpless before, it was even stronger now he was letting loose.
My insides were being battered, and I welcomed it completely, gripping his forearms as I threw my head back, crying out Clay’s name as he filled me over and over. I was lost in the steady beat of him inside me, my fingernails bit into his skin even as he held tight before giving one last thrust and a cry, holding himself against me so tightly I swore my hips protested from the pressure.
He was coming no deeper inside me than he had before, but after all that, I swore I could feel him pulsing deeper. Desperation and desire drove me to act, and I reached down, stroking myself as I felt him coming inside me. One heavy pulse, and I felt the last threads of control snap like wet paper, and my back arched. Every bit of pleasure, near pain, and heady ecstasy I’d felt before came crashing down, and I didn’t care if the walls were soundproofed or not; I cried out his name as I splattered my stomach and chest.
I was left a gasping, heaving mess as I lay there, groaning in weak complaint as I felt him slide out with a grunt. I blinked when I felt something warm trickle down my thighs, and I reached down, relief blossoming in me when I could see it wasn’t blood. A laugh slipped out. “Jesus, how much did you come?”
The laugh died when I saw the look on his face, and everything I should have been thinking before came rushing back. “Hey, hey, what’s up? You look like?—”
He looked like someone had died, but I wasn’t going to say that.
“Are you okay?” he asked through gritted teeth, staring at the bed with a hard look.
“More than okay,” I told him softly, reaching out to see if he would let me touch him. When he didn’t pull away, I laid my hand on his forearm and gave a light squeeze. “I would have stopped you if you was going too far.”
“Would you?” he asked, surprising me. “I mean, you’ve said before that you’re still trying to figure out what you want instead of what other people want.”
