“On your knees.”
Atticus pulled his knees forward, lifting his ass in the air.
He sighed as Carson leaned over him, pressing a kiss between his shoulder blades. His hands began to roam, starting at his shoulders, working their way down his back. Atticus sighed, relaxing as Carson caressed him.
By the time he reached his hips, Atticus was back in the present, focusing only on the man behind him.
“That’s what I want right there,” Carson moaned, gripping Atticus’s ass cheeks with both hands. He spread him wide, and a moment later, Atticus felt the warmth of his breath an instant before his tongue invaded.
The guy wasn’t pulling his punches tonight, that was for damn sure.
“Oh, fuck yes.” Atticus clutched the comforter, rocking back against the intrusion.
Carson reached around and fisted Atticus’s cock. “You like havin’ your ass rimmed.”
“Yes,” he hissed, unable to deny it.
“Enjoy it. Once I’m inside you, I’m gonna want to stay there forever.”
Atticus’s asshole clenched, eager for Carson to fill him with his cock.
He heard Carson chuckle, and a second later, a finger pressed against his hole.
“Is this what you need?”
Atticus relaxed as Carson pushed his thick finger inside him, slow and deep. It felt so good.
“What about when I do …. this?”
“Fuck!” Atticus’s entire body tensed and jerked when Carson pressed against his prostate. The sensation was unreal, making his head spin as Carson massaged that delicate spot. The sensations overwhelmed him. His skin was tight, his scalp tingled. He was going to come with Carson fingering his asshole.
“Don’t,” Atticus rasped. “Not yet … oh, God, not yet.”
Carson slowed, easing up on the prostate massage, but he continued to finger him. Atticus was aware of Carson moving, leaning toward the nightstand beside the bed. He heard the slide of a drawer opening and then closing. A moment later, something cold dripped on his hole, coating Carson’s fingers and making the glide easier.
Atticus rocked back against two fingers scissoring inside him.
“More,” he pleaded.
Carson added a third finger, making Atticus moan.
“Take it,” Carson grumbled. “Fuck yourself on my hand.”
Atticus wasn’t shy. He did exactly that, rocking backward, impaling himself on those thick digits. It wasn’t enough. It would never be enough. He wanted Carson pounding into him.
“Fuck me, Carson,” he whispered. “I want to feel you.”
The fingers slipped out, followed by the distinct sound of foil ripping and a condom being rolled on. Atticus looked back at the beautiful man about to fuck him into oblivion. Their eyes met as Carson guided his cock to Atticus’s hole.
Carson’s blue-gray eyes blazed with passion. “You ready for me?”
“God, yes.” He faced forward, pressing his chest to the mattress so he could press back against Carson’s cock as it split him wide.
He hissed and moaned, letting the pleasure wash away the initial pain. He probably should’ve gotten a look at the man’s dick so he would’ve known what to expect. It felt like he was being fucked by an eggplant.
“Fuck, you’re big,” Atticus groaned.
“I probably should’ve warned you,” Carson said, the words hissed through gritted teeth. “You’re so fuckin’ tight … God, Atticus.”
