Chapter 13
Chapter thirteen
Rory
Wyatt cleared away the plates, putting them back on the kitchen counter by the stove, and I tugged two packets from my pocket. I carried them on me most times, but I’d been extra hopeful tonight. And it looked like my wish would be granted.
“Condom and lube on the table,” I said. “Gotta keep your piercing wrapped for the foreseeable future to minimize risk.” My pants were still at my thighs, my ass bared and pulsing with heat from the blows he’d landed. I’d never been spanked before, but holy damn, new kink unlocked.
I wanted him to bend me over his lap every damn day.
Those callused, rough hands were straight out of my fantasies, and the feel of him looming over me, of the sting transmuting to pleasure with each blow—fuck yes.
God, how would getting fucked while my cheeks burned like this be?
And damn, I’d never been railed by a guy with a Prince Albert piercing.
Excitement mounted in me with every breath.
I spread my palms on the smooth wooden surface of the table, sturdy enough to hopefully withstand Wyatt fucking me within an inch of my life, and then I thrust my ass out.
The creak of footsteps behind me signaled his approach, and I glanced back.
Except, instead of unzipping his jeans, he knelt behind me and palmed my cheeks again.
Oh god, why did his touch feel so damn good?
Wyatt spread me so my hole was bared, and his breath puffed against the sensitive skin.
My cock was hard and dripping from being spanked, and damn, he had me so unbelievably turned on.
“Can I taste you here?” he asked, his breath puffing against my hole.
I swallowed hard. What sort of straight boy offered to rim me? I sure as fuck wouldn’t turn him down, though. I’d scrambled to shower and change after work before heading here, and I’d cleaned myself thoroughly on the off chance we’d fuck. “Fuck yes.”
Wyatt gripped my cheeks tight, the slight sting of his calluses against my warmed cheeks sending a bolt of endorphins through me.
Then his tongue descended on my hole. I choked on air.
Bliss coursed through my veins with a ferocious swell, and I basked in the heightened sensation.
Everything with Wyatt was just…more. I wasn’t sure if it was due to the build-up of having to wait or if something about him had burrowed beneath my skin, but he was so different from the countless hookups I’d entertained over the years.
I wasn’t sure if that fact terrified or thrilled me.
Wyatt lapped at me with an exploratory focus, his tongue hot, his mouth eager.
His whiskers scratched at the tender skin of my ass, and fuck, even the slight bite of pain sent a thrill through me.
Pre-cum dribbled onto the floor from my weeping cock, and I braced myself against the table, even though the lust coursing through me was strong enough that my legs trembled.
I couldn’t fathom how a “straight” guy could eat ass like this, but hell, I was going to enjoy every damn second.
My hips shifted on automatic until I all but rode his face.
His grip on my cheeks didn’t falter, and he thrust his tongue into my hole.
Fuuuuuck. That felt too damn good. If he kept rimming me like this, I wouldn’t last. I rocked against his face, savoring the lushness of his mouth, how his grip on my stinging cheeks sent flicker-flares through me.
The moans poured from me, louder and louder with every passing second.
Wyatt squeezed one cheek hard, and I gasped. He then pulled back, much to my dismay. “You’re so fucking tasty, baby. If I keep doing this, I’m going to unload in my jeans.”
The “baby” sent an undeniable zing through me. I’d collected my fair share of endearments from guys in the heat of the moment, but I didn’t date. This felt…personal, intimate in a way I wasn’t used to.
Except I liked it far more than I’d admit.
“Then fuck me,” I said, summoning my nerves.
With a light grunt, Wyatt pushed off from the floor and then the shink of a zipper sounded behind me. I glanced back just as his hand wrapped around his perfect cock. The heft of it, the piercing at the base glinting under the light of his kitchen—damn, I was so mesmerized.
He ripped open the condom and slid it on, then snagged the packet of lube and drizzled some over my hole, slathering the rest on his cock.
Anticipation flooded me in a staggering sweep, and I hadn’t even realized I’d been holding my breath the whole time.
“Fuck,” Wyatt said, his hand circled around his base as he stared at my ass. His gaze slipped to mine, and the heat blooming there sent a shiver through me.
“Been a while?” I teased.
“You have no idea,” he murmured. “I’m terrified this will be over embarrassingly fast.”
“No judgment here,” I responded, his vulnerability striking right to my heart. “After you ate me out like that, I’ll be coming quick.”
“God, this ass.” He gripped one of my cheeks tight enough to send another burst of pleasure-pain fluttering through me. “You’re unreal, Rory. So damn pretty.”
My chest tightened. The way he looked at me, like I was something precious, would usually send me running for the hills. Guys didn’t want the residual mess that came with me, just a quick transaction.
Except, Wyatt knew what a mess I was, and he was still here.
“Fuck me,” I begged, needing to veer out of dangerous territory.
His thick brows curved, and a slow smile stretched his lips, deadly attractive. “That, I can do.”
He settled both hands on my hips, and I dropped my head forward, waiting for the sting, the fullness I’d been craving since I’d first gotten his cock in my hands.
I’d had a fuckload of sex that didn’t contain half the attraction or electricity as this, and those aspects enhanced every movement, every brush of skin on skin.
His tip pushed at my hole, and I braced down to welcome him in.
The glide with the slight ridge from the piercing was unreal, and I couldn’t help the long, low moan that trailed out of me.
His girth stretched me in the best way, and damn, his cock was everything I’d been waiting for.
He pushed inside me slowly, taking his time, and the hitch of his breath told me this affected him just as much.
When he finally sank all the way in, my balls throbbed, threatening to explode from the pleasure of him inside me.
“Fuuuuck,” Wyatt moaned out. “This tight hole—I’ve never felt anything so perfect.”
“Ngh,” was all I could force out, struck speechless from his thickness stretching me out, the length I’d craved. His cock filled me in the best damn way, and the man behind it was a thousand times better.
First time for everything.
“I need to fuck you,” he said. “Damn.” With that, he pulled back and then pushed in, the glide of his cock and the ridge from his piercing utterly sinful. “Holy shit.”
“Like the piercing?” I asked. He thrust in again, knocking the breath from me. Pleasure flared through me at the strike to my prostate, and fuck, he felt beyond good. Incomparable.
“Too much,” he admitted. “I’m going to need to take things slow if I want this to last. Your ass—it’s so hot and tight.”
A shiver rolled through me at his words, at his filthy mouth. Wyatt surpassed my daydreams with ease, which should’ve been evidenced enough after making out with him had ended with me coming in my pants.
His slow strokes held a control that drove me wild.
Each slide against my prostate hit right on the mark, and my legs shook from the force of the sensations coursing through me.
Wyatt wasn’t a guy who rushed in with abandon—not like me—no, he was careful, present, and deliberate, and I craved his steadiness with every ounce of my soul.
He savored rather than rushed, even though his strokes hit deep and on target every time.
Gasps escaped me, and the moans burst from my lips unbidden from just how good every thrust felt. Wyatt’s breaths had quickened too, his grip tightening on my hips with a bite that I loved. He fucked into me hard enough that the smack of his groin to my tender ass sent another flare through me.
Goddamn, the way he railed me into the table was transcendent, each stroke sending pure euphoria fluttering through me.
My whole body bucked forward from the force, even though his hold on my hips kept me steady.
I braced myself against the table, hoping it could bear my weight.
Sweat prickled on my forehead, and my breaths came out shakier as the sensations threatened to overwhelm me.
The ridge of his piercing sent a whole flurry of new adrenaline through me with the slight curve of his cock, the thickness.
Everything about Wyatt was absolutely perfect.
His callused grip on my hips was so tight I hoped he’d leave bruises I’d see tomorrow, and his symphony of grunts and moans created an intoxicating melody.
“Damn, Rory,” he groaned out. “Your ass feels too damn good. The squeeze of it, baby.”
Heat coursed through me, traveling to my chest with a lingering warmth. He had a way of affecting me that no one else had ever matched, and I was fast becoming addicted.
“I’d live in this hole if I could,” he continued, those coarse words amplifying my lust. “Just take you every day and night. Sink right into this paradise and lose myself in you.”
My heart clenched tight. I wanted that. So damn badly.
For him to take me whenever he wanted. To belong to him completely.
Unfathomable, of course, but in this moment I could surrender to the fantasy.
I could surrender to him.
Wyatt continued to ram into me with the deliberate force I craved, as if he wasn’t just trying to fuck me but meld our bodies together.
The stretch of him, the length as he thrust inside me was everything I’d been yearning for, and damn.
The scent of cedar, wholly Wyatt, lingered here, and longing surged through me, unexpected and fierce.
He fucked into me like he needed it as badly as I did, and I savored every second.
As much as I wanted to come, I didn’t want this to end.
“Fuck, baby, I’m not going to last,” he said, picking up tempo.
His thrusts arrived faster. The smack of skin to skin, the combustible heat burning between us, and the scent of sex and sweat lingering in the air all coiled around me, holding me captive.
My palms were a sweaty mess, and I started to slide against the surface the table, but Wyatt’s grip held me steady, as if I were just a rag doll, draped forward to get fucked.
My balls ached, and with the way pre-cum dripped from my cock, I knew I was making a mess on the floor.
I needed to come so damn badly I was losing my mind.
“Close,” I gasped out.
“Thank fuck,” he rasped and wrapped a hand around my cock.
He didn’t stop his steady thrusts, and the explosion of bliss with each one had me barreling closer and closer to release. When he began to stroke my cock in time, my cries grew deafening.
All that existed was the thrust of his length inside me, the sting of the collision, and the symphony of our sounds. The tension inside me coiled so tight it grew painful, my balls throbbing.
A few strokes from his firm grip, and I couldn’t hold back any longer. My balls drew up, and a shout escaped me as I came.
My orgasm stole me away with a blinding force, to the point my vision blanked, my whole body seized up, and my cum shot from me onto the tiled floor.
I soared on the sensation, the violent burst of pleasure sending me straight into the stratosphere.
I’d never experienced such a high before, such sheer and total abandon.
A second later, Wyatt’s cry pierced the air, and he stiffened behind me, his cock pulsing with his release.
For a few moments, we remained there in stasis, our breaths circulating through the room. His grip on my hips eased, and he plastered his sweaty chest against my back. My arms trembled, and I collapsed forward, slumping over the table.
Wyatt pressed an absent kiss against my sweaty nape, and my heart fluttered.
Damn, I was getting in far too deep.
“You know, that’s always been a fantasy of mine,” he murmured, his breath puffing against my skin.
“What?” I asked, the words coming out slurred.
“Fucking someone against furniture I made,” he said, continuing to press more kisses along my neck, my shoulders.
I stared down at the polished wood grain beneath me, the sturdy table that had withstood him railing me into it. The realization he’d made it with those strong, capable hands—yeah, that fucking worked for me.
“I don’t want to pull out,” he said, scraping his teeth against my shoulder. A shiver rolled through me. “Just gonna stay parked here all night.”
“Might get kind of awkward,” I teased back.
“You’re addictive,” he said, pressing another absent kiss to my nape. My heart ached, and damn, I wasn’t ready to face the reality of these emerging feelings.
“You can keep running your hands all over me…in the shower,” I said. “Maybe go for a round two?”
He slowly pulled out of me, and I missed the fullness at once. Wyatt helped peel me up off the table, and then he tied off the condom and lobbed it into his trash can.
“I’ll take any excuse to get my hands on you, but I can’t make any promises for my refractory period. Not in my twenties anymore.”
“Fine.” I waggled my brows. “I’ll get off, and you can watch.”
“Oh, fuck yes,” he said, wrapping his steady hand around mine. He led us in the direction of the bathroom, down the hall of his apartment, and I followed. My heart thumped steadily in my chest, the adrenaline beginning to creep up all over again.
The tension that had percolated between us exploded, and that should’ve been my cue to head out in the morning and move on.
New conquest, new bed, new cock.
However, there was one massive problem.
I didn’t want to.
Wyatt had burrowed under my skin, and now that I’d had him once, I craved more.