“So much for…romance, huh?” I ask, my lungs resuming function, every part of me caught in the staticky buzz of pleasure as I inch back and press forward again, Lawson’s body wrapping me in willing heat.
“You can dine me afterwards.”
I bark a laugh, dirt leaving a trail along Lawson’s side as I ruck his shirt higher, nails gliding gently over his skin. He shivers, and I fight the instinctive urge to cover every inch of him with my touch. “Sure thing, princess.”
He huffs but doesn’t protest the nickname. Shifting my hand back to the countertop, I splay my fingers wide, hold Lawson’s hip tight, and move. He grunts at the first slam of my cock inside his body, but then he’s leaning more of his weight forward, his head bowing, the angle giving me better access. There’s a tiny part of my mind telling me this is a bad idea—again—but it doesn’t hold court for long.
My thumb rests at the top of Lawson’s ass cheek as I fuck him hard, my eyes caught on the way I’m sinking inside his body again and again. The man’s ass bounces every time weconnect, andfuckif that isn’t a heady sight. All of it. Lawson splayed out against my goddamn kitchen countertop. Dirty fingerprints and smudges evidence of my touch on his skin. The man’s head dropped forward like he can hardly hold it up, his groans as he takes the fucking he asked for telling me how much he loves this.
Lawson’s hand slides outwards, dragging through dirt on the countertop before he catches himself. “Fuck.”
“Got you swearing already,” I note, mighty proud of that fact.
“Would you…” He cuts off, panting heavily, a bead of sweat dripping down the small of his back.
“Tell me,” I urge, slipping my hand up his chest, holding tight as the smack of my hips on his ass echoes in the room. My gut tightens, and I close my eyes for a moment, needing to draw myself back from the edge.
“Would you kiss my neck?”
The request has me stilling for only a second before I drag Lawson upwards, slotting his back to my chest, the two of us a sweaty mess as we fit together from knee to shoulder.
“Like this?” I ask before dragging my lips across the nape of his neck.
He rolls in another shiver, his ass clenching around me as my stubble abrades his skin. “Again.”
My eyes slip closed once more, but I don’t consider denying him. I drag my lips along the side of his neck, over salty sweat, up below his ear. The closed-mouth kiss I press there has him drawing in a breath.
I grind against him, shallow thrusts at this angle, each one slow and achingly sweet, like molasses. When I open my mouth to flick my tongue against Lawson’s skin, the man moans.
“I think you like that,” I say, rolling my thumb over his nipple beneath his shirt.
He stutters a breath.
“And that,” I add.
“Think I do,” he answers, leaning his head to the side in a way that feels like a glaring invitation.
I drag my stubble back down his neck, fit my lips to the bend of his shoulder, and suck.
“Jesus,” Lawson mutters, his hand slipping again where it’s braced against the edge of the counter. I can see his cock from over his shoulder, hard now and starting to leak. He doesn’t reach for it, instead getting a fistful of my hair and tugging in clear demand.
It goes straight to my own cock, and I rut into him harder, scratching my stubble across his neck and the tops of his shoulders almost ruthlessly, kissing him the only way I may ever have the chance to. His skin is hot and salty on my tongue, the man himself bowing forward again as if he needs the support. I press him back over the counter, his hand and mine streaking through the dirt on its surface. Lawson’s sound of encouragement is all I need to pull back and slam forward again.
I let my hips take over, the tight clasp surrounding my cock second to the feel of this man at my fingertips. There’s a moment of stark disconnect where I remember this is Lawson.Lawson. My best friend of decades.
Not my lover.
Not my boyfriend.
Not anything but a man who drove over here with the express purpose of getting dicked.
I have to remember that. Ihaveto.
But right now, none of it stays in my mind. There’s only this man in front of me, his vocalizations hurried in a way I know means he’s close. I’m not sure I have the stamina to edge him for an hour today. As it turns out, I don’t have to.
“Oak.”
Lawson’s request is clear. I bring my hand to his cock, wrap my fingers around him tight, and stroke. He clamps down on me immediately, his breath catching in his lungs. I don’t think he needs the push, but I still lean close and run my lips up to his ear again.
