Chapter 17 #3
“Yeah? You liked fingering yourself? You liked making yourself feel good?”
“Shit,” he gasped when I curled my fingers and found that spot inside him. He lit up, his hips fucking upward, his dick spilling thick dribbles of precome. “Shit. Again.”
I did it again…then again. Then again. I fucked his prostate hard, my hand slamming against his ass as his back arched and his thighs began to twitch.
“Stop! Stop, st—”
I had my fingers out of him before he could say it a third time. Kissing his thigh, I leaned over him. “Did I hurt you?”
“T-too much,” he managed. “Too much. If…fuck.” He took several breaths before he could speak again, and his hand found my cheek before he did. “If you’re gonna fuck me like that, I want it to be with your dick.”
That was an easy ask. I pushed him back further on the bed as I climbed up between his legs, then grabbed the condom and tore the wrapper. His head followed the sound, his ear tilted toward it. I coated my dick with another dollop of lube, then spread my dry hand over his lower stomach.
“Like this, or on your hands and knees?”
“I don’t,” he said, shaking his head. “What would be better for you?”
I liked fucking my partner like this so we could look at each other, but with Jonah, it was different. He saw me with every part of his body but his eyes. Leaning in, I kissed the tip of his cock. “Roll over for me, my love.”
He jolted, and I realized what I’d said, but I didn’t take it back. I couldn’t. I wouldn’t say the words. Not those three words. But I was willing to toe the line.
He obeyed, arms and legs trembling as he managed to get on all fours, and I shoved a pillow between his arms, then eased him down so his ass was in the air. “Just like this. Oh, my good boy, you are so fucking perfect.”
“Jesus,” he gasped. “Say that again. Tell me. Tell me I’m fucking good at this. Please.”
I reached down and lifted him up, sitting on my knees as I clutched him to my chest. The desperation in his voice was almost too much for me to take. Who had ever let him think he wasn’t good? Who had ever let him believe he wasn’t enough?
I would fucking kill them if I could. “You are so fucking good, Jonah. You are everything you need to be.”
He let out a sound a bit like a moan and bit back a sob. “Okay. Okay.” His head fell back against my shoulder, and I bit his earlobe, making him shift restlessly against my cock.
“Spread your legs. Yes, just like that.” He obeyed so beautifully, going up on his knees, then letting his ass hover above my thighs.
I gripped my cock and guided it toward his hole as he began to sit, and I felt it catch, slip off, and then catch again. This time, as he put more pressure downward, he took me inside him nearly an inch.
And then two.
Then three.
“Oh Jesus. Oh fuck. It feels…” He trailed off.
“Tell me,” I murmured into his ear. I thrust my hips upward gently as he rocked himself in a slow circle. “Tell me how it feels.”
“A lot. So much. Full.”
I took a breath, then slowed down, pulling him lower until he was fully seated. He moaned loudly, his head falling back against my shoulder again, and he spread his legs wider like he was trying to get that last bit of space between us all the way inside him.
“Fuck, you are so beautiful,” I murmured. “So fucking beautiful.”
“I don’t…I don’t know what you’re saying.”
I wasn’t speaking English. That didn’t happen often, but when I was overwhelmed, one of my other languages always took over. I dragged a touch from his neck down his torso, down to his cock, and curled my hand around it.
“I love being inside you,” I told him. “Love feeling you tight around me. Love watching you fall apart in my arms.”
“I—” He moaned, shuddering, his cock pulsing hard against my grasp. “I’m…I can’t…”
“It’s okay. It’s okay, Sparky. Let go for me. Be my good boy and come.” I squeezed him, then stroked hard, rolling my hips up hard and deep.
He let out a sharp cry, then sagged forward over my arm, steady only because of my grasp on him. He spasmed around me, and I felt when he let go, hot ropes of come coating my fingers as I held his dick and let him fuck his ass on my cock.
“Shit, shit,” he finally gasped like he was just now able to breathe.
I yanked him back and put one hand on his leg, keeping them spread wide as I used the other to lift his hips, then drop him. “Gonna fuck you ’til I come, okay?”
“Yeah. Yes. Fuck, make me feel it, Alexio. Please, please…”
I tipped him forward carefully, watching him fall onto the pillow, his chest on the bed, ass in the air. Then I took him by the hips and hammered my dick inside him—over and over and over—lost to the pleasure of it, lost to the feeling of him squeezing around me.
I was barely aware that I was coming at first. The feeling was like a slow roll instead of fireworks, but then I felt desperate for air and sucked in a breath as my cock pulsed the last of my come into the condom.
My entire body threatened to give out on me, so I grasped the base of my dick and rolled over, the condom squelching as I pulled out. It only took me a second to take it off and tie the end before dropping it on my pants, and then I rolled over toward Jonah, who had fallen onto his side, facing me.
I touched his cheek, and he nuzzled against my palm like a cat.
“That was…” He went quiet for a long moment.
“I know.”
“I mean, you normally fuck guys, right? So that probably wasn’t anything special, or—”
Pressing two fingers to his lips, I shuffled closer, grabbing his leg and hooking it over my hip. We were touching from chest to groin, legs tangling together. He put his hand over mine. “Enough.”
“Sorry.”
I snorted a whispering laugh and shook my head against his hand. “No. Stop apologizing for being yourself. I like you exactly the way you are.”
“Even when I was—”
“Yes.”
He huffed and shoved at me. “You don’t know what I was going to say.”
“It doesn’t matter, because it was even then.
Even when I was telling myself to hate you.
Even when I was saying it was just for fun.
I kept looking at you and seeing a man I wanted to get on my knees for, Jonah.
You were there, and you were everything I hadn’t realized I wanted until you let me touch you.
And once I did, I was addicted. Obsessed. ”
“If you quit hockey, you could be a fucking poet,” he chirped.
I leaned in and bit his jaw, making him burst into laughter. “Maybe I will. I’ll publish a horrible thousand-page book of bad poetry. I’ll put it in audio and in braille so you never have an excuse to not read it.”
“Cruel,” he said, but he was grinning. He pressed his fingertips to my jaw, then traced the corners of my lips. “Smiling?”
“You make me happy.”
He swallowed heavily, then said, “At the risk of sounding like some nervous thirteen-year-old who’s never had a partner before…is this…I mean, are you sure this is what you want? To be with me?”
“There hasn’t been anyone else in a long time,” I murmured. The fatigue of the long roadie, the pain of my bruises, and the workout I’d just done with my body and Jonah’s was catching up to me. My eyes were slipping closed. “Just you. That’s all I want. All I need.”
“Okay. But if you change your mind…”
I leaned forward, finding his mouth by feel, on instinct, and I kissed him again because I could. Because he was mine. “I won’t.”
He hummed. I wasn’t sure he believed me. And if I were thinking rationally, I might not have believed me either. But it didn’t matter. Right now, it was good, and I wasn’t going to ruin it just because I was afraid.