“Are you hard for me, love?”
“Yes.”
“Touch yourself.” Oliver moans, dropping a hand from the headboard, the muscles in his bicep bunching as he takes himself in hand, stroking his length.
Moving back on my knees, I spread his cheeks apart, getting a look at his pink hole, stretched and glistening with lube. It’s been a long time since I’ve been inside a guy, and I’m nervous it’ll be over as soon as I press inside.
With a hand on his lower back, I apply pressure, urging him to stick out his ass, adjusting his body so he’s at the right level.
I take a deep breath, cover my cock in lube and then guide it to his entrance, holding his hip as best I can with my still injured wrist. The head of my cock pushes past the first ring of muscle and the tightness makes my balls draw up. I pause, breathing through my teeth, inching further in.
Oliver pushes himself onto my cock, taking me fully inside him and stealing my breath.
“Fuck! Ollie. Jesus. I’m not gonna last. You’re so hot and tight.”He looks over his shoulder, his bottom lip trapped between his teeth. “You need to move, baby. Fuck me.”
I nip at a patch of skin on the back of his arm. “I’m in charge, here.” Rotating my hips, I drag my cock in and out of his hole in slow, torturous movements. “Maybe I’ll take my time.” There is no chance in hell I’ll manage that, but I love the needy whine that passes his lips at the suggestion.
“Bloody hell, D. Please.”
“So pretty when you beg, puppy.”
Oliver laughs, but the sound gets caught in the back of his throat when I thrust into him hard and fast, pegging his prostate. He pushes back, eager to take, and I slow down again.
“Stop being a brat and fuck me!”
He’s quivering and cursing under his breath as I ramp up the speed and intensity, then bring it back down to slow, languid strokes.
“Darius.”
“Ask nicely.”
“Fuck me, please,” Oliver begs. “I need you.”
“Okay, lover.”
My injured hand rests on his upper back while my other hand grips his hip, fingers digging into flesh. I sink into him as deep as I can, then pull out and repeat the motion over and over, sweatbeading on my forehead as pleasure thrums like liquid heat. Oliver moans, and I slip my hands around his front, rubbing my palms over the planes of his stomach, feeling his muscles contract as I work my cock in and out of him. My uninjured hand finds purchase around his neck and I pull him back, so he’s arching into me.
“Come with me, puppy,” I command, my movements growing frantic. “Lift your leg.” Oliver moves his right leg, bringing it up to his side so that his foot is flat on the pillow and I fuck up into him, my body strung tight, chasing release. In this position I am impossibly deep, my cockhead pounding his prostate on each thrust.
“Darius, fuck!” Oliver yells, his body shaking with the force of his orgasm. His arm works faster, and the tension snaps, white spots filling my vision as I release deep inside his body. Filling him and coating his channel. I pull out, my orgasm continuing to barrel through me, another hot jet of cum releasing over Oliver’s lower back.
My injured hand is resting on his chest, and I bring it to his back, rubbing my cum into his skin, loving that I’ve marked him inside and out.
He lets out a breath, head thumping against the headboard.
“Holy shit,” he remarks. I move back, and he spins around, darts forward and tackles me onto the bed, rubbing his cum slick stomach and hand over my body, like a dog marking its territory. “You’re a tease, you know that? A bossy fucking tease.”
“But you love me.” I wink.
“Bloody right I do.” Oliver kisses me. “Always will.”
Chapter 33
Oliver
“Earth to Ollie,” Zander jokes, stealing my attention from my phone. On the screen, there’s a selfie of Darius in a navy blue lace set, his cheeks flushed and his hair mussed. He sent it to me this morning after I called him, my words coaxing sweet noises from his lips as he took himself in hand and over the edge.
I’m having a hard time putting the image out of my mind despite having a ton of work and a deadline to stick to, which is why I’m looking at it again.
