“No.” I push his hand away, and his whole face falls, like I just told him his dog died or he didn’t get that part in the music video he’s been practicing for. I lower my head and kiss him, first hard and fast, then soft and slow, so he knows how desperate I am but that I’m patient, too. That I’m willing to hold off if it means we get to stay like this a little longer. “I want you. But not like that.”
He looks up at me, his eyes heavy lidded and hazy with lust. “Then how?”
“I need to be inside you.”
Like I flipped a switch inside him, he scrambles out from underneath me and grabs the lube and a condom from the nightstand drawer, where he’s seen me get them at least half a dozen times before. He hands them to me and gets on all fours, wiggling his ass temptingly. As if I needed more incentive to tap that.
“Come on, Puck Boy.” He’s using that whiny voice, the one that would be annoying at any other time. But now, when he’s pleading with me to fuck him, it’s a huge turn-on. “What are you waiting for?”
“Gotta get you ready first.” I tear the foil packet open and slide the condom on.
“Like I’ve said, for you, I was born ready.”
“You may have been, but your asshole wasn’t.
I spread lube on my hands and probe him, first with one finger, then two. By the time I add a third, he’s writhing and panting, pleading with me to hurry up and screw him before he squirts all over my clean sheets.
I remove my fingers and reach around him to grab his cock. With my other hand, I position my dick at his entrance, inching just the head inside.
Kolby arches his back, urging me, daring me to go deeper. But I’m determined to take this slow. To prolong the sweet, sweet torture, for him and for me.
“Nice try, but not so fast.” I pull back so I’m barely inside him, the tip of my cock teasing his rim. “We’ve got all night. I’m taking my damn time.”
He groans. “I don’t know what I want to do more, thank you or kill you.”
I bend down and drape myself over him, planting a soft kiss on the nape of his neck. “If you can hold off on killing me, I guarantee you’ll be thanking me.”
“Guarantee, huh? That’s a pretty strong word. What do I get if I’m not satisfied?”
“Trust me, you’ll be satisfied.” I give his dick a tug, and it twitches in my hand.
“But what do I get if I’m not?”
“How about I keep trying until you are?”
“That’s a deal.”
I kiss him again then slowly push forward a few inches before stopping to savor the feel of him. He’s so fucking hot and tight around me. He always feels good, but this time it’s different. This isn’t the hard, fast, frantic fucking we’re used to. This is soft, slow, sensuous.
Realization slams into me like I’m being cross checked against the boards. This isn’t fucking. This is making love.
Suddenly, I don’t want to be screwing him from behind, like we’re animals. I need to look into his eyes as I slide in and out of him, kiss his beautiful mouth as he shudders beneath me, see the look on his face when he falls apart.
I let go of his cock and slowly withdraw from his warm, wet hole. Before he can protest, I flip him over and enter him again in one long stroke.
He gasps, then lets out a ragged moan. “Not that I’m complaining, mind you, but why the sudden shift?”
“Need to see you. To do this.”
I latch my mouth over his, swallowing his next moan as I begin to move inside him. What we were doing before was great, but sex with Kolby is even better when we add in the kissing. It makes everything more intimate, more meaningful. Plus, I could kiss him forever. He does this thing with his tongue that makes me see stars, and I can’t get enough of the way his lips feel against mine.
But we have to come up for air at some point, so eventually I reluctantly drag my mouth from his, pausing to lick a trail from his jaw to the hollow where his neck meets his shoulder before raising my head to look at him. He has the glassy-eyed, slack-jawed expression of a man who’s on that blissful, razor-thin edge between pleasure and pain.
“Are you okay?” I stare down at him, spellbound by the rise and fall of his chest with his rapid breaths. His piercing glints up at me like a neon sign, begging to be touched. Played with. Sucked on.
That’s an invitation I can’t resist, so I lean down and take it between my teeth, tugging gently before releasing it so I can look into his eyes when he answers me.
“I’m better than okay,” he whispers, his voice strangled. “Fuck me, Puck Boy.”
