When he reached that point of no return, Atticus leaned into Slade, tightened his grip on the man’s thighs, and let go, watching the entire time as his cock erupted in Slade’s big hand.
Wave upon wave crashed through him as cum spurted onto his chest and stomach. He was still gasping for breath when Slade was on his feet, urging Atticus back until he was reclining on the bench. Slade moved around, kneeling between Atticus’s thighs, and proceeded to lick the cum from his cock and chest.
Atticus damn near came again, taken completely off guard by Slade’s hunger for him.
When Slade was finished, he stood, leaning over Atticus, gripping the bench above his head as he leaned down and kissed him.
Atticus kissed him back, lifting his head when Slade tried to pull back. He didn’t want him to stop. He needed more of those mind-numbing kisses, but Slade had other ideas.
“Stay there,” Slade instructed as he stepped to the side and shoved his jeans down his legs.
Atticus turned his head so he could watch, his mouth watering when Slade revealed his long, thick cock. He was somewhat surprised to find that Slade was cleanly shaved, no pubic hair whatsoever.
He was still staring when Slade stepped closer before straddling Atticus’s chest, pinning his arms to his sides. He half expected Slade to sit on him but smiled when he merely leaned forward, using the Olympic weight bar for support and bending his knees, bringing his cock to Atticus’s mouth.
He didn’t need to be instructed what to do. Opening his mouth, he let Slade slide his velvet smooth length past his lips, over his tongue. Slade was watching him as he fucked his mouth, inch by inch until he was deep in Atticus’s throat before he slowly retreated and pushed in again.
“You look so good with my dick in your mouth.”
Atticus felt those words like a physical pulse in his bloodstream.
“Suck me, Atticus. Ah, yeah.” Slade began pumping his hips, fucking Atticus’s mouth. “Fuck. I love your mouth.”
Yeah, well, Atticus loved his cock. He tasted good. Almost as good as he smelled. Clean, healthy male.
Slade squatted lower, one hand still on the bar, the other palming Atticus’s head and lifting it, changing the angle as he used him. Atticus couldn’t resist touching him. His arms were still pinned, but he had enough slack to slide his hands up the back of Slade’s thighs.
“Oh, yeah. Touch me, Atticus.”
He did, sliding his hands over every inch he could reach. With each pass, Slade seemed to breathe heavier, but he didn’t change the pace of his cock pumping in and out of Atticus’s mouth, seemingly content with the leisurely slide and retreat.
Slade groaned low in his throat a second before he released Atticus’s head and stood tall, his cock sliding out of Atticus’s mouth.
“We need more room,” Slade said, helping Atticus to his feet, then leading him out of the room and down the hall.
***
Slade walked into his bedroom, glanced atthe bed, then kept going, dragging Atticus along behind him.
They would end up there eventually, but right now, Slade wanted to take advantage of every minute he had with this man.
He went into the bathroom, opened the shower door, and reached in to turn on the water. Once it was running, he turned back to Atticus, pulling him in so he could kiss him again. Atticus’s arms went around him, his hands sliding across his back, sending chills down his spine. Needless to say, he fucking loved when this man touched him.
But he loved touching just as much. He dragged his palms down Atticus’s back, lower so he could cup his ass, gripping the pale globes firmly and pulling him closer.
“I can’t get enough of you,” Slade whispered, pulling back but continuing to touch every inch he could reach.
“I’m sure you’ll change your mind by morning.”
He didn’t like Atticus’s lack of self-worth. The man didn’t give himself enough credit. Slade wasn’t sure who had given him reason to doubt himself, but by God, he was going to do whatever he could to prove to him he was important.
“I won’t,” Slade said, ensuring he heard his sincerity. “I’ll want you just as much then as I do now.”
“How do you know?” Atticus asked as Slade led him into the shower when the steam began to rise.
“Because I’ve wanted you since the day I met you and even more now.”
“You hardly know me,” Atticus countered.
