“Great, wonderful, lovely,” Trevor says. “Now get on with it please.”
He smirks as he crawls back onto the bed, hovering over Trevor’s body again. “Eager much?”
Trevor gives him an exasperated look. “What do you think?”
He thinks he could spend the rest of his life loving and pleasing and fucking this man.
And he will.
He kisses Trevor, quick but dirty, before backing off. Trevor props himself up again to watch as Skyler settles between his legs. His face changes suddenly, from eager to almost nervous, and Skyler catches it right away.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” Trevor shakes his head. “Just go slow. It’s been a long time.”
“How long?”
Trevor huffs. “Can we not do thisrightnow?”
That’s a fair request. And yes, Skyler wants to get on with it too, but. “Baby, please. How long?”
He rubs at Trevor’s thigh, waiting for an answer.
Finally, Trevor sighs and says, “Since you. I haven’t been with anyone but Sierra since you.”
All the air is knocked out of Skyler’s lungs. “I—you—” is all he gets out.
“Don’t make a thing out of it,” Trevor says, starting to look self-conscious, which Skyler can’t have.
He leans down to place a firm kiss on Trevor’s inner thigh. Trevor’s breath hitches at the contact. He turns his head to do the same on the other one, and then whispers against Trevor’s skin. “I love you.”
Trevor doesn’t say it back, but he doesn’t need to. He reaches down and winds his fingers gently through Skyler’s hair, and Skyler gets it.
He’s honestly overwhelmed with the information that Trevor hasn’t been with another man since him. That he’s theonlyman Trevor’s ever been with.
But this isn’t the time to dwell on it. He focuses on the important part right now—Trevor hasn’t been fucked in years. Skyler was already planning to take his time, to go slow, to draw this out. But this only fuels him to go at an even torturously slower pace. He’s going to make sure Trevor’s comfortable and enjoys every delicious second of it. Going to show Trevor he belongs to him. As if either of them doesn’t already know.
He feels a twinge of guilt as he warms the lube between his fingers and brings them down to Trevor’s hole. Because he’s been with other men since Trevor, a lot of them. But he ignores it. He did what he thought he needed to do at the time. Anything to dull the pain.
Not that it ever really worked.
When he slowly sinks his first finger in, Skyler thinks that no matter how many other people he’s been with, nothing’s ever compared to this. The way Trevor looks—lips parted and eyes rolled back, sweat already gathering on his forehead, all the inked up, muscled skin. The way his body accepts Skyler so beautifully. The connection between them that goes so much deeper than the physical.
This is it.
This is what’s been missing for years. And he has it back now.
Trevor’s tight around his finger but still letting him in easily, and Skyler can’t drag his eyes away from the spot where they’re joined. He knows the onefinger isn’t enough, but he doesn’t care how long it takes. He waits until Trevor lets out a whispered request for more.
He’s even more careful when he adds the second one. Takes it as a good sign when Trevor’s arms give out and his head falls back down to the pillow.
This time when Trevor eventually utters, “More,” Skyler ignores it. He keeps going at his own pace, unwilling to be hurried. Trevor whines but doesn’t say anything else, just reaches down until he finds Skyler’s free hand and holds on to it.
Skyler stares at the tinyStattooed in the area between Trevor’s thumb and forefinger. Being around Trevor recently, he’s done his best to avoid looking at it. But now he can’t tear his eyes away from the proof that Trevor is his. Only his.
When Skyler hits that spot inside of him, Trevor squeezes his hand. Skyler squeezes back and does it again. And again. He does it until Trevor is a whimpering, squirming mess, and then he eases up. He could make Trevor come like this, on just two fingers. And then he could most likely make him come again on his dick. But he doesn’t want it that way. He’s not going to take the edge off. He’s going to make him wait.
He's making himself wait too, his dick painfully hard between his legs, and it’s taking a lot of self-control. But self-control is something he’s practiced over the years. And anyway, it doesn’t take as much as it took him to not give into Trevor’s drunken desires the other night.
