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I paused just outside the door, watching climb back on the bed, where he got on his hands and knees.
“All right. I’m ready.”
I crossed the small stretch of floor between us, stopping at the edge of the bed behind him. I looked down at the pale, freckled expanse of his back, my hand lowering to give myself a slow, lazy stroke to wake up my dick.
Cally lowered the front half of his body, which pushed his thick, meaty ass higher. “I can hear you thinking back there, M. Get up here and fuck me already.”
“Gimme a minute. I’m admiring the view.” My free hand rubbed appreciatively over his high, firm cheeks, my fingers sinking into the muscle and squeezing.
On the one hand, I liked the idea of being able to kiss him as his body welcomed me inside. But I was also somewhat nervous that if we fucked like that, I wouldn’t be able to keep my feelings from showing on my face, and all that want and need and goddamn love I had for him might scare him off.
Then I had an epiphany.
“Remember our first night?” I asked, giving my dick another tug, swiping my thumb over my slit to spread the bead of pre-cum over my head.
“You want me to ride you?” he asked.
“Yeah,” I said, letting go of my cock to climb onto the mattress and crawl toward the headboard. “That was so fucking hot.”
“So hot,” he agreed, grabbing the bottle of lube and condom and rising up onto his knees. He moved up the length of bed, dropping the supplies next to my hip. I tangled my fingers in his hair and tugged him closer, nipping at his lips and licking my way into his mouth, whimpering and moaning every time he groaned.
Eventually, we came up for air, and Cally picked up the condom wrapper, glancing down at my cock. “Can I?”
“Yeah, sure.”
In the past, getting suited up was simply something I did on order to progress to the main event. But watching Cally tear into the packet with his teeth, then roll the latex down over my dick felt a lot like foreplay.
He tossed his leg over my thighs to straddle my lap and grabbed the lube, popping the cap open and squeezing a generous amount into his palm. Still not breaking eye contact—a feat for him, I recognized—he wrapped his slick hand around me, coating me from base to tip in slow glides that made my hips twitch, chasing friction. When I was practically panting, he smirked, seeming to enjoy every second of my torment.
“Please,” I begged.
“Since you asked so nicely,” he murmured, squeezing another dollop onto his fingers and reaching around to get his hole nice and slick for me. Then he shifted, positioning himself directly over me.
“Tell me you want this. That you’re not just doing it because I want to.”
How could he even think that? I wanted him more than I’d ever wanted anything in my life, and that included the hockey career I’d somehow clawed my way into. I wanted him so badly that if I had to choose between Cally and it, there was no choice.
It was him. It would always be him.
“I need you, Cal.” I settled my hands on his hips, my fingers digging into the soft, pale skin there.
He made a garbled noise that I took as agreement that he felt the same way, his hand coming up to grip my shoulder. He leaned forward, pecking my mouth quickly, roughly, then guided me to his hole.
Cally’s breath hitched as he bore down, his lips parting in a low, needy gasp, his eyelids fluttering over flushed cheeks. His blunt nails bit into my traps hard enough to sting as he sank further down, inch by torturous inch. “Sorry,” he said when he’d taken half of me. “Been awhile. Gimme a sec.”
God, he was so beautiful like this—sweaty and flushed and looking at me like I was the answer to some unknown prayer he hadn’t known to make until now.
I sent out a silent thank you to the universe—to the moon and the stars and whatever holy celestial beings existed for getting to see my best friend like this. To feel him like this.
“Take your time,” I rasped, coasting my hands softly up and down his ribs and lats, just needing to touch him. “You feel so fucking good, C. You’re so beautiful.”
His throat worked as he swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “You too.” He started moving again, his body yielding as he slid all the way down.
When he’d taken all of me, he shuddered, his face going slack with pleasure. “Fuck, Mikey.” He dropped his face forward, resting his forehead against mine, his breath moving into my mouth, and mine into his.
I wrapped my arms around him, sank my fingers into his back, and pulled him to me, fusing our mouths together in a slow, deep kiss. His tongue slid against mine in a rhythm that mirrored the way his body was moving on my cock—a gentle rocking that made us both groan.
I was shaking with the effort of staying still, my thighs locked, as I let Cally set the pace. My hands roamed over him, touching everywhere I could reach, feeling the powerful flex of his muscles as he moved. A fine sheen of sweat slicked his chest as my hands coasted over his rounded pecs, my fingers teasing his dusky nipples.