25. Silas
25
SILAS
I gasp loudly, nearly yelping when he covers my hole with his mouth. My first instinct is to rise to my toes, get away from it because it’s not what I expected, and it’s shocking how instantly overstimulating it is.
But with his fingers tucked behind the straps on my thighs, he drives my heels back to the floor and does exactly what I told him I like. Sharp flicks of his tongue send jolts of burning sensation all around my rim. His legendary drool slides through my ass crack as he draws a full circle along the edge of my ring. “Fuck,” I grit out, trying to stay quiet. “ Fuck… ”
“Tell me what you like,” he says. “Teach me to make it good.”
“It’s already—put your mouth back on me.”
He does it all again, licking and flicking, and then again until my cock has fought its way out of the tight underwear and the tip is exposed and leaking. I hang onto the shelf, my knuckles white, and my grip the only thing keeping me from floating away on a wave of bliss.
His warm hand finds my balls, freeing them from the tight confines of fabric, and tugs them between my legs before giving each of them a long, sloppy suck .
“Graham…holy shit.”
“Tell me what to do, Silas.”
“Suck them. Please. Oh, God …”
He takes my entire sac into his mouth. Graham’s mouth is like no one else’s. It’s wet beyond belief and greedy—so fucking greedy. He sucks my balls like he gives head. Back and forth, lots of tongue. If I touched my cock, I’d probably come. But if he keeps doing this well, I won’t need my hand.
Abruptly, he lets my nuts slide off his tongue. My knees buckle, but when his mouth covers my hole again, I go still all over, thighs trembling as I weather the deep plunge and suck.
“Perfect,” I tell him. “That’s so fucking perfect. Don’t stop.”
He doesn’t. Not for a long time. His moans and his tightening grip on me tell me he might love this as much as I do. I think he’s better at it than I am, too, but that won’t stop me from treating him later. Or sooner. I’m picturing a sixty-nine with my head clamped between his legs and my tongue buried deep inside him. Beard burn on testicles. Cum wherever it lands.
Oh shit…too close. “Need you. Need your cock,” I plead.
I hear him spit. Feel him rise behind me. The slicking of his hand over his bare cock is a distinct sound. He spits again and runs his fingers through my crease, shoving more saliva inside me as I shudder with want.
It’s not as easy a glide as we get with lube, but it’s good enough. The increased friction makes the fit tighter, the intimacy intense.
“Silas…” he whispers as he presses his thick dick inside me. His hands travel up my front, getting a grip on the lower band of my harness and stilling when he bottoms out. I’m stretched full as he kisses my neck. I groan from the pressure, from being joined so tightly to him. My channel ripples around his cock, attempting to suck him deeper, feel him more.
“You feel so fucking good,” he says.
“You’re so hard for me…” Those words are true, but they’re al so deliberate. The ever-present need to lowkey remind him it’s not like this for him with her. And if it is, and he’s been glossing over that truth, then I wouldn’t mind him feeling guilty about that.
“Only for you,” he says, knowing me too well. There’s not a hint of a lie in his words.
God, I hate myself sometimes for trusting him this much this soon.
We move together in a subtle, shallow thrust. I clench, working my prostate over his flared crown as it rubs past. His breath is harsh on my shoulder—our slow pace insanely difficult to bear. His hands tremble on my chest with the effort of holding himself back.
One of them travels down my abdomen, finding my cock. His hand slides behind my underwear and gets a grip on the shaft. “Fuck yes,” I encourage him. The train rocks along the tracks, creating extra movements that stimulate the fuck out of me. This is everything . The single hottest experience of my life.
The persistent grind inside me pushes me right up to the edge of an orgasm I won’t be able to compare to anything else. Turning my head, he’s right there waiting. Our mouths meet in a hot, wet kiss. It’s what I need—what my body demands to release the last thread of restraint. Breaking away, I cry out a release that could rival a cannon blast. I lose my hearing, and my vision blacks out at the edges. I can’t breathe as cum flies from my dick with his hand stroking it up and down. Before I’m even done—meaning while I’m still deep in it—he grabs the back of my harness and proceeds to give me a rough, thorough fuck. I’m barely hanging onto the shelf, my body sagging, still convulsing, as he bangs me deep and hard.
Flesh slaps flesh as more cum shoots from me, and I doubt my ability to remain standing. My arms won’t hold me much longer.
“Oh fuck… Oh, Silas …” his voice is breathy and unsteady.
“Please,” I beg him. “Please… ”
“Oh…oh…fuck… ffuuuccckkk ….” He shoves in deep and lets go, his body shuddering around me, his cock throbbing in my ass. Heat fills my core as he releases one of his huge loads. He lets go of the harness to wrap me in his arms, his chest pressed to my back, allowing me to drop my arms and let him hold me up. His forehead digs into my upper back as he continues to shake and groan, his orgasm also going on forever.
“You’re incredible,” he finally says, but doesn’t let go.
I take the compliment. I love compliments when they come from him. “You make me feel incredible,” I tell him, returning the favor in likely the cheapest, sappiest way possible. My face flushes with embarrassment, but he doesn’t seem to mind my clumsy words.
“I could stay inside you all night.”
“If that’s what you want, we definitely need to lie down.”
It’s a long-held fantasy. I hate sleeping alone. Love the comfort of another body next to mine. But can I really sleep while intimately connected with someone? If he goes soft and shifts even the smallest bit, the bubble will burst, and I doubt he can sleep while hard.
We take turns in the tiny bathroom, and while I’m there, he turns down one of the small beds. He doesn’t know I plan to try this out. He won’t say no. He might even think it’s a thing couples do all the time. It’ll involve having sex again—obviously, but I don’t mind if he doesn’t. The bed is more cot-sized than twin-sized. “I guess I should make the other bed,” he says with a hint of regret when he comes out of the bathroom to find me already taking up most of the tiny mattress.
“I don’t think that’s necessary,” I say.
He gives me a shy grin and drops his towel. I move to make as much room as possible. A moment later, his warm arms are around me and he smells impossibly clean. Every part of him is touching me, and I kiss him to seal us together. He makes a soft noise that gets me hard. Our hips move to make room for our newly growing erections.
“I meant what I said,” he tells me. “About how incredible you are.”
My first thought this time isn’t as charitable. Not incredible enough. But I kiss him instead of speaking those words into existence. There’s a reason I never returned any of Ben’s eventual calls after our mistake of a date. There’s also a reason I’m with Graham and not Ben or someone who’s actually available. The reasons have stretched some over the last two weeks.
There’s the way Graham factors me into his days, the way he texts me when he’s bored or overwhelmed—the way he texts me back when I am, even in the middle of the night.
I can’t claim to know him deeply, but I know him better, and I’m letting him know me, too. He’s especially interested in how I’m doing after I finish with one of Katia’s jobs. I haven’t had another bad experience like those two men filming me, but he checks in. If he’s jealous, I can’t tell, and I find myself not wanting him to be. I try to talk about it like it’s any other job. What I haven’t told him is that it’s getting harder to be with a man who isn’t him.
With a client, more often than not these days, my thoughts have to go someplace else. I’ve stopped caring whether I come or not. I go through the motions, make the appropriate sounds of pleasure, but I don’t get there unless I manage to really sink into thoughts of Graham, which only happens in those fleeting moments where the other man feels like him. I’ve only seen three clients since the disastrous threesome, and each time it’s felt like a job. A chore. A thing I have to get through in order to see or speak to the person I really want.
But here he is, and I have him all to myself. I try to tell myself it’s the newness of it sweeping me away, causing me to stumble, to fall. Maybe I’ve missed kissing. Maybe I’ve missed being looked at the way he looks at me—held the way he holds me. His want is fierce, or at least it feels that way. It has a drugging effect on me—agitation and euphoria.
“I meant what I said, too,” I tell him, my hands roaming his back, his hips, his outer thighs. As the kiss heats up, I slide my finger through his crack, brushing over and over the puckered hole as our cocks rut and grind. He makes soft sounds, needy ones.
“Do you like that?”
His murmur of assent buries itself in my mouth.
I don’t mind topping. It’s not an area where I feel like I excel, but something about Graham makes me want to. Especially when he gets like this. I can dominate him just as easily when he’s inside me, but I think he needs both. Everything. I want him to have it all.
His dick is becoming insistent, though.
“Do you want in, puppy?”
“Please,” he groans.
It’s tricky, but I turn around, giving him access to my ass. A lube cap opens and closes. His hand moves between us, slicking up his cock. On our sides is a new position for him and me, and he notices the difference immediately. “Tight,” he gasps.
“Mmhmm…”
“ God …”
There’s barely room to move without risking me tumbling off the bed, so it’s a deep, intimate fuck with his arms banded around my torso, his open mouth breathing against the nape of my neck. My ass clenches around his gently rocking cock. He used the perfect amount of lube. Enough to get him in and keep him in.
It only takes a few minutes before he’s groaning, “I’m so fucking close, Silas. ”
I wrap a hand around his neck and keep him with me. “Don’t pull out. Stay inside me.”
He bites down on the tendon behind my collarbone and growls out his release. His cum fills me as he gasps and pants. His arms tighten around my chest as his orgasm shudders through us. A few lazy strokes of my own dick is all it takes to have me shooting, too. Pleasure ignites my cells, and I let out a sharp cry. It feels just as good as before, which was a tough act to follow.
As we both come down, he says, “You want me to stay here?”
“If you can.”
“In this bed? Pretty sure. It’s not too much?”
“You feel perfect, Graham.” It’s not a hundred percent true. He’s big enough that the stretch is intense, but as he softens, his cock feels more like a plug. Tolerable. Comfortable not in a physical way, but spiritual if that’s possible. Comfortable on a soul level. Like being complete.
He breathes heavily, finding a place for his head to rest. “I can’t promise you won’t wake up to me fucking you again.”
“I just want you inside me. As long as possible. Whatever needs to happen, I’m good with it.”
“Thank you for doing this with me.”
“Fucking you?”
“No.” He laughs softly. “Coming to DC with me.”
“Don’t thank me. I’m being selfish. I don’t want to have to miss you again so soon.”
“I feel like you’re starting to like me a little.”
“Yeah?” I ask with a soft laugh. “What was your first hint?”