Chapter 15 #2
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. It isn’t just genetics. It’s a lot of hard work, you know it.” Lance’s hands found his balls and rolled them, the touch threatening to be too much and somehow not enough all at the same time. It made his eyes cross.
He gasped and jerked, pushing up into Lance’s amazing fingers. Fuck him. Nothing had ever felt so good, because he’d been afraid he was going to lose it.
He was never going to lose this man again, dammit.
“Don’t stop.”
“Not going to stop.”
Then one callused hand wrapped around his prick, began to stroke the tip over and over, the touch light enough that it wasn’t causing too much friction. “Never going to stop until you come for me. I dreamed about that smell, the sound of you coming for me.”
“Love you.” Sloan wasn’t going to fall apart. He wasn’t. He was going to hold onto this pleasure with everything he had, feel each and every second of it, and he was going to return the damn favor.
He was going to make Lance fly.
“Love you too.” Lance rubbed his thumb over the slit of Sloan’s cock, making him buzz.
He arched into the sensation, his balls pulled up as tight as they could be, his belly sucking in with the pleasure and the need ride this wave for another minute. Hell, as tight as his ass was clenched, he might be permanently damaged.
And Lance kept stroking, pulling, and rubbing until Sloan was moaning, steady as a clock, begging for it in a breathless voice. “Please, honey. Please, I can’t— I’m gonna.”
“You don’t have to wait.” Lance reached down and stroked the strip of skin behind his balls. “Come on, baby, let me have it.”
The jolt of electricity sent him bucking, and he shot. He didn’t have a choice. What else was he going to do?
Lance’s laugh was happy, warm, damn near joyous. “There you go. Yeah.”
Yeah, there he went, right into the damn stratosphere. Sloan laid there, sucking in air, feeling like he’d run ten klicks with a full rucksack.
In his boots.
“Damn, babe.”
Lance grinned at him, slumping beside him. “That was good, huh?”
“It was amazing, thank you.”
It took a little while, both of them lying there, Lance easing him into the pillows with careful touches before he gathered all his scattered chickens back up and smiled at Lance. “Do I get a turn?”
“If you want one.”
“I want one.” That was easy.
He reached out. “Awesome.”
Then he put his hand flat on Lance’s chest and stroked all the way down. He didn’t avoid Lance’s half-hard cock, but he didn’t head straight for it either. He wanted Lance to know that wasn’t the point of all of this.
Pleasure was the point.
Pleasure didn’t have to mean orgasms .
It didn’t have to mean anything but feeling good.
He might have read about this a bunch in the middle of the night when he couldn’t sleep. Research was his friend.
Lance stretched for him, wiggling in the sheets. “This bed is crazy man. It’s like it was meant for me to be right here next to you.”
“Would you believe me if I said I planned it?” he teased.
Lance shook his head. “No, because tonight when we’re both sweating our asses off and we keep rolling toward the middle of the bed, you’re going to be mad. This was a happy accident.”
“We can sleep long ways so we stick our butts in the middle, it’ll be fine.”
He started drawing with one finger over Lance’s skin. Silly things. Hearts, suns. Writing their names over and over. Drawing a target around Lance’s belly button, an arrow on one hip bone.
Lance’s lips were open, his eyes were closed, and his expression was a mixture of fascination and eagerness and this wild curiosity.
Sloan had never felt so awed and so powerful, all at the same time.
So he drew a wave on one thigh. And then another heart.
Lance grinned. “I love you too.”
He spelled out letters next.
I.
K.
N.
O.
W.
Lance started, almost in shock. That was the expression—pure shock. “Me too. I know too. Do it again.”
So he spelled out. I want you .
“I’ve never been anyone else’s. I’ve always been yours. You’ve always been mine.”
He put his hand flat on Lance’s heart. “I know. I never gave up on you.”
Lance reached out to him, finger spelling out I know on his chest.
Then Lance took Sloan’s hand and put it on his lightly scarred, fully hard cock. “I know.”
“Oh, honey.” He stroked, his palm fitting to the hard flesh, his thumb rubbing happy circles at the tip when he got there. He stroked down with his fingers, then up with his fist.
He gave Lance all the sensation.
With his other hand, he just kept on touching, skating over Lance’s nipples, his scarred ribs, his tense thighs.
Then he leaned in and gave Lance long, drugging kisses, lingering over them as he touched and teased.
Before long, Lance was putting a hand over his to squeeze. “Harder, babe.”
“You sure?”
“God yes.” Lance showed him the way, and Sloan gave what he asked for, pulling and pushing, rubbing good and hard.
Lance moaned, his hips rocking, all that muscle that was filling in again, rippling. He’d never been more beautiful to Sloan because he was alive and there and willing to fight for this, and he couldn’t believe how fucking amazing it was.
They moved together, Sloan’s cock trying to rise again, even if he wasn’t sure it could, and finally, Lance cried out, the sound loud and almost shocked, as he came all over Sloan’s fist.
They laid there for a long moment, both of them panting, the heat around them intense.
Then Lance laughed, the sound low and a little shocked. “Is there a ceiling fan? ”
“Yeah. I’ll get it.”
“Wait.” Lance pulled him down for a kiss. “I did it.”
“We did it, huh?”
“Yeah. Yeah, we did. Stunning, babe.”
“I think so too. Now we just have to hope we didn’t shock Abby.”
Lance hooted for him. “Well, she didn’t think you were accosting me, so that’s good.”
“Yeah. That would hurt, if she bit my ass.”
“And then some.” Lance reached up to touch his face. “Thank you.”
“I keep telling you, honey. We’re in this together. All the way.”
“All the way,” Lance echoed.
Then promptly rolled to the center of the bed to smack into him, sending them both off laughing all over again.
Camping had turned out to be a damn fine idea.