CHAPTER 20 #2
I shove them down over his hips, down his thighs, and he steps out of them.
And there it is. His cock, hard and flushed dark at the tip, thick and perfect, already leaking.
A bead of precum catches the light from the windows, glistening.
I've seen it already, tasted it, but it's different now.
Now we have time. No steering wheel in the way.
No public parking lot. Just us and this massive bed and the city lights bearing witness.
He's working on my jeans, fingers fumbling slightly with the button in his eagerness. He pops it open, drags down the zipper, and I help him, shoving them down along with my boxers, kicking them off until they're lost somewhere in the darkness of his bedroom floor.
And then we're both naked.
We stand like that for a moment, inspecting.
Appreciating. The city lights paint stripes across his body, blue and gold cutting across his chest, his abs, highlighting every cut of muscle, every plane and angle.
His cock juts out from his body, thick and demanding attention, and I want to touch it, taste it, feel it everywhere.
"You're gorgeous," he breathes, and his eyes are roaming over me like he's trying to memorize every detail.
"Back at you."
He moves toward me and I let him back me up toward the bed.
The backs of my knees hit the mattress and I sit, the sheets cool against my overheated skin, then scoot back toward the headboard.
Ace follows me down, crawling over me on hands and knees, crowding over me, and the sight of him like this, predatory and focused, makes my cock twitch.
Our mouths meet again, just as his cock brushes against mine and we both groan at the contact, the sound swallowed by our kiss. The feeling is electric, skin on skin, hard flesh against hard flesh.
"Fuck," Ace breathes, pulling back slightly. He looks down between us, at where our cocks are pressed together, and his expression is somewhere between awe and desperation, like he can't quite believe this is happening.
I reach down, wrapping my hand around both of us, my fingers not quite meeting around our combined girth. His hips jerk forward at the contact, seeking more.
"Devon—"
"Yeah. I know."
I stroke us together, slow and deliberate, feeling every inch of him against me.
He's thick and hot and so fucking hard, his cock pulsing in my grip.
The slide is good even without lube, our combined precum making everything slick and obscene.
I can feel every ridge, every vein, the way his cock twitches when I squeeze just right.
Ace drops his forehead to my shoulder, breathing hard against my skin. "That's—fuck—that's really good."
"It gets better."
I speed up my strokes and his hips start moving, thrusting into my fist, and I match his rhythm. We find a pace together, moving in sync, and it's scorching. His breath comes in hot pants against my neck, and I can feel the tremor in his muscles. The way he's trying to hold back.
His hand covers mine, grip tightening, fingers threading between mine, and we stroke together, faster now, more desperate. The dual sensation, his hand and mine, his cock and mine, is overwhelming in the best way.
"Want to—" Ace's voice is wrecked, barely recognizable. "I want to taste you."
My brain stutters to a halt.
Because yes. God, yes. I want that. I want to see him on his knees. Watch him learn how to take me apart. I need it. His tongue, his throat, his everything. But…
He's nervous.
It's apparent in the tension of his body, in the way his muscles are coiled tight.
I can see it in the way his eyes dart away when he says it.
This is all new for him. And as much as I want it—and I really fucking do—I don't want him to feel like he has to.
I don't want this to be the thing that spooks him, that makes him second-guess everything.
"Hey." I cup his face with my free hand, and make him look at me, my thumb stroking over his cheekbone. "You don't have to do that."
"But I want—"
"I know. And you will. But right now?" I rock my hips up, grinding against him, feeling the delicious friction of our cocks sliding together. "This is perfect. You're perfect."
He searches my face for something, and whatever he finds makes him relax, the tension bleeding out of his shoulders.
"Okay," he says. "Yeah. Okay."
I kiss him again, deep and slow, pouring everything I can't say into it.
Then I shift, rolling us slowly so I can straddle his lap.
His hands go to my hips automatically, holding me, those large palms spanning my hipbones.
I align our cocks, pressing them together, and the angle is different like this—more direct. Intense.
"Fuck," he groans, the word punched out of him.
I start moving, rocking forward, sliding against him.
The friction is incredible, his cock hot and hard against mine, the slickness of our precum making the glide smooth and devastating.
I set a rhythm that has both of us panting, finding that perfect pace that builds and builds without tipping over.
His hands tighten on my hips, fingers digging into my flesh, and I fucking love it. He's guiding my movements now, and we find a pace together. Not too fast, not too slow. Just right. Just perfect.
Every slide of skin on skin sends sparks up my spine. Every time the head of his cock catches against mine, we both gasp. Heat builds between us, sweat starts to form where our bodies press together.
"Devon," he gasps.
"Yeah?"
"I want—" He cuts himself off, looking almost frustrated, like he can't find the words for what he needs.
"Take it. Take whatever you want."
Instead of answering with words, he flips us.
One second I'm on top, in control, setting the pace, the next I'm on my back with Ace hovering over me. The sudden reversal makes my head spin and my cock throb.
"This," he says, settling between my legs, his hips cradled by my thighs. "I want this."
His weight presses me into the mattress, solid and warm. Our cocks align perfectly, the angle somehow even better than before, and he rocks his hips experimentally. I arch up to meet him, and the pressure, the friction, the heat—it's different like this. Deeper. More intimate.
"Fuck," I moan, unable to form anything more coherent. "Ace—"
He buries his face in my neck, mouth hot and wet against my skin, and his hips keep moving, adjusting the angle, like he's figured out exactly what drives me insane. Each thrust grinds our cocks together, the pressure maddening.
I wrap my legs around his waist, heels digging into his ass, changing the angle again. He groans into my neck, the vibration traveling through me, and his rhythm falters for just a second before he finds it again.
"That's—fuck—Devon—"
"Don't stop. Please don't stop now."
His thrusts get faster, more desperate, the control starting to slip. I can feel it in the way his muscles tremble, in the way his breath comes in harsh pants against my throat. I'm right there with him, pleasure building low in my gut, intensifying with every slide of his cock against mine.
The sounds we're making fill the room—gasps and groans and the slick slide of skin on skin. The bed creaks slightly under us, adding to the symphony.
I reach between us, wrapping my hand around both of us again, adding that extra pressure, that extra friction. My hand is slick with precum, making it perfect.
And that's it. That's what tips him over.
"Devon—I'm—fuck—"
"Come for me. Come on me."
He breaks with a shout, his whole body going rigid, every muscle locking up. I feel the hot splash of his cum between us, coating my hand, my stomach, painting my skin with his pleasure. His cock pulses in my grip, each spurt accompanied by a full-body shudder.
The sensation, the= heat, the wetness, the way he's completely lost in it, is enough to end me.
My orgasm crashes through me and I come too, adding to the mess between us, my vision going white at the edges, pleasure rolling through me in waves that seem to go on forever.
My cock jerks in my hand, mixing our releases together until I can't tell where his ends and mine begins.
Ace collapses on top of me, breathing hard, his full weight pressing me into the mattress. I hold him there, running my hands over his sweat-slick back, feeling the rapid flutter of his heartbeat against my chest. His cock is still pressed against mine, both of us softening slowly in the aftermath.
We lie there for a while, catching our breath, coming down. The city lights continue their silent show outside the windows, oblivious to the fact that my entire world just shifted on its axis.
Eventually Ace rolls off me, and we're both sticky, and gross, and I don't care about any of it.
His hand finds mine on the mattress, fingers threading together.
"We should probably clean up," he says after a moment.
"Probably."
Neither of us moves.
Then, from somewhere in the apartment, comes a single bark.
"The dogs," Ace says.
"Right. The dogs."
"They probably need to go out."
I turn my head to look at him.
Right. My very polite cue. I lift my back off the mattress, my body protesting. I scan the floor to locate my clothes, all that cum on my stomach suddenly a massive inconvenience.
I clear my throat. "Right. I'll help you walk them, then I'll be out of your hair. I can come back in the morning—"
Ace's fingers wrap tightly around my wrist just as I'm about to get out of the bed. "Devon."
I look over my shoulder and…damn. I almost forgot how fucking hot this man is. "Yeah?"
He smiles then and somehow he's even more attractive. "That's not— I wasn't kicking you out. You know that, right?"
I blink. "You weren't?"
He lifts up to a sitting position and leans in, placing a tiny kiss on my shoulder. "Stay," he simply says. "We'll walk the dogs, come back and you'll stay. Okay?"
"You sure?"
"I'm going to need help getting all these animals under control overnight."
I grin. "Right. The animals."
"Exactly. The animals."
"Nothing to do with wanting me to stay?"
His ears go pink. "Maybe a little to do with that."
"Just a little?"
"Don't push it."
I laugh and he does too, and Candy barks from somewhere in the darkness.
"Alright, alright," Ace calls out. "We're coming."
We are. And apparently, I'm staying.