Page 49 of We Are Just Us

“Understatement.”

Rory kissed him again, slower now, the initial urgency banked to embers. Kieran’s palms roamed across Rory’s bare back, mapping the topography of muscle and bone and the ridge of his spine, then slid down to the waistband of his open jeans.

“Your turn,” Kieran said, pushing at the denim.

“Bossy,” Rory murmured, but he was already standing up, letting the heavy denim fall to the floor.

No underwear. Rory had been freeballing the whole time—through the entire dinner, through the walk home, through that desperate kiss at the front door. Just denim against bare skin. The realization sent a fresh jolt of liquid heat straight through Kieran’s core.

Then Rory was gloriously, unselfconsciously naked beside the bed, flushed, breathing deep, and visibly, achingly hard. Kieran reached out a hand for him, and Rory came willingly, letting himself be pulled down onto the mattress.

Kieran shifted his weight, ready to move between Rory’s legs, when Rory suddenly caught his wrist. His expression changed in an instant, the easy confidence flickering away, replaced by a vulnerability so raw it looked almost painful.

“Will you sit on my face?”

The words landed heavily in the space between them, vivid and undeniable.

Kieran blinked, his mind stalling. “What?”

“I want to eat you out while you suck me.” Rory’s voice came out rough, gravelly, but he held Kieran’s gaze unblinkingly. “I want my tongue in your ass while you make me fall apart.”

Kieran’s mouth went completely dry. His body responded before his brain could even process the words, blood rushing south, his skin prickling, a sharp, heavy clench low in his belly.

“You want us both at the same time?”

“Yeah.” Rory looked stripped bare in a way that had nothing to do with the clothes he wasn’t wearing. “Is that weird?”

“No,” Kieran said immediately, his voice steadier than he actually felt. “No, Rory, that’s not weird. That’s…yeah. We can do that.”

An unmasked wave of relief flooded Rory’s face, as if he’d braced himself for rejection and gotten a green light instead. He shifted up the bed, settling his back against the pillows, and held out an arm. “Come here.”

Kieran’s body thrummed as he moved, positioning himself over Rory, his legs bracketing Rory’s head as he faced down toward his hips. The clumsy friction of two tall men trying to find an axis on a mattress hit him all at once—the absolute exposure, the immense trust the position required—but Rory gripped his thighs, his thumbs pressing firmly into the muscle, steadying him.

“You sure about this?” Kieran asked, looking back over his shoulder.

“So sure,” Rory breathed, and pulled him down.

The first touch of Rory’s tongue made Kieran’s whole body jerk, a sharp gasp punching out of his lungs. Rory’s hands dug deeper, anchoring him as he worked with devastating focus—licking, sucking, his tongue doing things that made Kieran’s vision instantly blur.

“Oh fuck,” Kieran choked out, his hands gripping Rory’s shins to keep himself upright. “Rory.”

Rory hummed against him, and the deep vibration detonated through Kieran’s entire nervous system. He forced himself to focus, leaning down to wrap his lips around Rory, wanting to give back even a fraction of the pleasure tearing through him.

Rory groaned aloud when Kieran took him in, the sound muffled and desperate against Kieran’s inner thigh. His hips lifted off the bed, seeking more depth, even as his tongue kept up its relentless, swirling rhythm.

They found a pace—imperfect, desperate, and absolutely obscene. Every time Kieran took Rory deeper, Rory responded by doubling his efforts, his tongue pressing inside him now, and Kieran shook and cursed around the thick length in his mouth.

Kieran’s thighs trembled violently with the effort of holding himself up. Rory reached around, his fist wrapping around Kieran’s cock, which was already fully hard again. He pulled back long enough to murmur against Kieran’s skin, “That was fast.”

“I’m aware,” Kieran mumbled against him.

“Like, record-breaking fast. I’m impressed.” Rory stroked him, slow and light. “You should call Guinness.”

Kieran would have laughed if Rory’s thumb hadn’t found the head of his cock in the exact same moment, circling it while his tongue returned to Kieran’s opening. The dual sensation whited out every coherent thought left in his head. It was too much. Overwhelming. Perfect.

Kieran pulled off with a loud gasp. “How…how is this even possible?”

Rory’s response was to intensify everything—his tongue, his fist, the maddening, steady pressure of his thumb—until Kieran came a second time with a surprised, broken shout, spilling over Rory’s fingers, shaking so hard his arms nearly gave out entirely.