He’s warm, and he’s solid from all of the construction work he’s been doing, and—
He pulls back, his eyebrows creeping up. “Are you seriously—”
I shake my head. “Don’t.”
“You’re already leaking. You’re not going to last long enough to fuck me.”
“I will.”
“Okay,” he says, and I ignore the skeptical voice. I can’t help it if I’m sensitive with him, surrounded by his body and his hands and his smell…
It’s too much sometimes.
I pull away to find the lube and condoms from his bag, and when I turn back around, he’s stroking himself, watching me, his eyes roaming my body. I force down any self-consciousness I might feel. He’s already seen all of me. “Stop.”
He shakes his head, going faster. “Make me.”
Climbing back onto the bed, I wrap my hand around his wrist, stilling him, taking his cock in my other hand. “You said you weren’t doing any of the work.”
He drops his hand with an exhale, thrusting into my hand. “Fuck, more.”
But as much as he asks for it, I take my time. This is the first time I’m getting my hands on him, and I intend to take full advantage of it, sliding a lubed finger into his tight hole, taking him into my mouth at the same time.
It’s been too long.
“Jesus, fuck,” he groans, his fingers tangling in my hair, pulling hard as I swallow around him, sliding a second finger in beside the first. “You’re really— You’re good at that.”
“Hm,” I say, pulling off as a drop of pre-cum dribbles out, trailing down his shaft. “Are you sure you’re gonna last?”
He sits up, watching me pick up the pace, fingering him hard, taking his cock back in my hand at the same time. And whatever argument he had dies on his tongue as he drops back against the pillow with a moan.
I spread my fingers, making sure he’s ready to take me, and I watch as all the tension leaves his body. The way his brow furrows when I stretch him too fast, and the way he pushes back against my fingers. I don’t have the heart to tell him not to.
“Can I—” he starts, reaching for his cock when I let it go.
“I thought you wanted me to fuck you?” I challenge, batting his hand away. “Can’t hold on anymore?”
He drops his head back with a half groan, half laugh. “I hate you.”
It’s that moment that I pull my fingers out, watching him clench around nothing, wet from the lube. I think he might be right. I’m about to burst at the sight of him.
“Don’t stop,” he says to the ceiling.
“I’m not. I have to—” I grab the condom off the bed and slide it on, wishing I had thought to test us so I could feel him without it. He watches every step of the way, his eyes glued to my cock and his cheeks flushed, the way they were last time I fingered him.
It’s so different from his usual dominance, and I love this version of him just as much.
I move over him, lining my cock up with his hole, ready to push inside, when he grabs my arms, and his eyes go wide. “Wait!” The look on his face makes me pause, his lip between his teeth and his eyes filled with nerves that weren’t there before.
“You’re not gonna be thinking about her, are you?” he asks, voicing a concern I can tell he’s had for a while by the way he says it. “You’re not gonna be comparing or thinking about who feels better—”
I lean down to kiss that look off of his face, my heart breaking that he would even worry about something like that. “I love you, Will. I’m not thinking about anyone or anything except how good it feels to finally be with you like this.”
His eyes scan my face, searching for the truth in my words. He nods, but I’m not sure he means it when he says, “Okay.”
“Are you sure?”
He reaches up and grabs my face, cutting me off mid-sentence to kiss me hard, nibbling at my lip when he pulls back, leaving me dazed when he says, “I’m sure. You’re fucking me. Come on.”
