Chapter 20 #2
He fumbles with my belt, and I quickly reach to help him.
Between the two of us, we get my pants off quickly, letting my boxers fall with them to the ground.
Covey helps me step out and pushes me gently toward his bed.
“I’ll be right there,” he says. Part of me wants to obey him, but the other part wants to continue staring while he strips off the rest of his outfit.
Ultimately, obeying wins out. I’m desperate for him, and anything that gets his cock in me faster is a good thing.
Covey seems to think the exact opposite. He’s painfully slow making his way to bed, stopping off at the nightstand to retrieve lube and a condom. And yes, we need those things, but could he do it a bit faster?
When he sets them on the bed, I start to flip over and position myself on all fours so that he can prep me. A firm grasp on my arm keeps me from getting very far. “Where do you think you’re going, schatje? I’m not done playing with you yet.”
I could come from hearing him say those words alone. Not to mention when he crawls naked onto the bed, finding space between my legs.
“Now, where were we?”
He drapes himself over me, finding my mouth again with his.
Whether we kiss for five minutes or an hour, I’m not sure.
All I know is that it feels right to have him with me like this.
There’s no awkwardness or moment of uncertainty.
Not like there usually is with people I take to bed.
He rocks against me, his hard cock leaking against my stomach.
By the time he pulls away, I’m wound so tightly I’m pretty sure I’m only a few minutes away from coming.
He presses soft kisses against my clavicle before making his way down my torso.
Outside of my more recent jerk-off sessions, I never let myself imagine what Covey would be like in bed.
He’s told me a few stories, always leaving out the salacious details.
I like him like this, confident and commanding.
It’s the image I want to hold onto. The one I like to think about when January rolls around and we put a stop to whatever it is we’re doing.
Not because he’s making me feel incredible—he is—but because of how sweet he is.
The way he holds himself up to avoid putting too much weight on me, the way he catches my eye between each kiss, checking in to make sure I’m okay.
All of those are the moments I want to close my eyes and remember on a cold night.
“You still with me?”
“Yeah,” I manage to squeak out.
“Hmmm… that’s good.” He wraps his hand around my cock and gives it a few gentle strokes. “I’m going to get you nice and ready for me.”
I let out a soft whimper as he opens the lube and pours it over his fingers.
“Relax for me, okay?”
That’s easier said than done. It’s been a long time since anyone but me has played with my hole. Covey’s got infinite patience, though, gently rubbing his fingers over me while softly reassuring me that I’m doing a good job.
By the time he gets his first finger inside me, I’m begging for it. “That’s my good schatje. Letting me into this sweet hole.”
I arch my back, forcing myself to relax and listen to his words. It’s not long before he’s pumping his finger in and out of me.
“Please. More,” I beg.
“Shh… I don’t want to hurt you.” I want to tell him that he won’t, but he chooses that moment to suck my cock into his mouth. Any helpful thoughts leave my head. The only thing I can think of is how good it feels to have him touching me like this.
He knows exactly what he’s doing, sucking and licking me until I get too close, then backing off. I barely notice when he works a second finger inside of me, too distracted by the pleasure.
“Covey.” I’m running out of patience and pretty sure I’m not going to be able to hold off much longer if he keeps that up.
“Ready for my cock?”
I nod enthusiastically. “Yes. Yes.” I may not be able to find a lot of words right now, but I need to be sure he knows how badly I want him.
“How do you want me?”
“Like this,” I say, pulling my knees toward my chest. I want to savor this moment, remember the expression on Covey’s face when he’s inside me, how he looks when he comes.
Without hesitation, he crawls forward, lining himself up with my hole. “Relax for me, schatje. I’m going to make you feel so good.” I don’t know when he managed to get the condom on, probably when I was too busy reciting multiplication tables in my head to hold off my orgasm.
I take a few breaths, reminding myself to relax. Covey’s gentle—too gentle. It takes way too long for him to press inside me. When I buck my hips up, he puts a hand on my hip, holding me in place.
“I can take it,” I say, hoping to coax him to speed up, rather than the painstakingly slow pace at which he’s currently moving.
“You’re being so good for me”—he pants—“taking my cock like this. Don’t worry, I’m going to give you all of it.”
It’s not worth arguing to make him go faster. Instead, I focus my efforts on enjoying the feeling as he pushes in an inch at a time. When he bottoms out, he buries his face in my neck. “Fuck, Aidan. You're so tight around me.”
It takes a minute for me to adjust to him inside me. It’s not long before I’m desperate for him to move. Or do something. Anything at this point. “Covey—” I croak out. “Please. Move.”
He takes direction well, pulling back until he’s nearly out of me, before pushing back in. I let out a long, guttural moan at the movement. He catches my eye, checking in to make sure I’m okay. When I give him a nod, he snaps his hips.
His eyes stay on me, but the concern fades, turning into something more carnal.
The way he looks at me is incredible. It nearly breaks me to watch the pleasure on his face each time he thrusts into me.
It’s not the hard, forceful manner I expected.
Instead, he’s using slow, sensual thrusts.
It’s almost too much. The way he slides in and out of me, the tender way he runs his hand over my side.
The way he meets my eyes in between heated kisses.
I’d stay like this forever if I could, but my body is racing toward orgasm. Between the way he feels inside of me and the way his body rubs against my cock with each thrust, I’m not going to last much longer.
“Covey—” I moan. “I’m close.”
“Yeah? Gonna make a mess and come for me?”
Those words are enough to send me over the edge, my orgasm slamming into me as my cock pulses between us.
“Oh, fuck. Aidan.” Covey slams into me a few more times before he groans, and I feel his cock pulse inside me.
Covey collapses on top of me. He’s heavier than I expected, but I like the weight on me, reminding me that he’s here.
Eventually, he pulls out and rolls off to the side.
“Give me a second,” he says as he removes the condom and ties it off, tossing it into a waste basket next to the bed.
I don’t know how he’s finding the ability, because I can’t even find the energy to speak yet.
Thankfully, he doesn’t ask me to; instead, he gets up and pads out of the room.
A few minutes—or maybe longer, I might have dozed off a bit—he comes back carrying two washcloths. I reach for one, but he pulls his hand back. “Let me.”
I can’t watch as he washes me gently, using one to clean the lube from my crack and the other to clean the cum off my stomach. It’s too pure, too perfect.
When he stops, I open my eyes and find him examining me. “Sorry, sleepy,” I lie.
He chuckles. “Go to sleep then. What time do you need to get up in the morning?” I do some quick math, since I’ll need to go home to shower and change before driving to work. “Six.”
Covey groans but sets the alarm on his phone and puts it on the charger. Mine’s somewhere, but I’ve decided it’s tomorrow’s problem. I can charge it in the car. Right now, I’m too warm and comfortable to worry about it.
“Good night, my schatje.”
“What does that mean? Scha-achke?”
“Um… it’s like sweetie in Dutch.”
“Hmm… say it again?” I can barely keep my eyes open, but I want to hear it one more time.
“Sleep tight, schatje.”