5. Chapter Five
I’ve already crossed a line, what’s the harm in crossing another? Not like there’s many more. May as well get them out of the way in one night.
Digging around in my bag, I finally find the roll of condoms and lube stuffed in the corner.
I toss both to the bed when I reach it. Bryson did as I told him and is fully naked, lying on the bed on his back, waiting for me. He’s still semi-hard, which is so fucking sexy.
“Have you done this before?” I ask, kneeling on the bed.
“Yes.”
“Knees up.”
He lifts his knees with his feet flat on the bed. I grab the lube, squirting it on my fingers and bringing them to his ass. His eyes flutter closed as I rub the slick liquid in, and his jaw clenches when I ease a finger inside. He was tense as hell sitting on my lap, but the orgasm loosened him up a little. I work my finger in and out of him, pressing on his prostate when I get to it.
“Oh, fuck—”
His hands fist the sheets, and I watch his dick come to life, turning to stone. I stroke his prostate again and he practically jumps off the bed.
“Do my fingers feel good?” I ask.
“God yes,” he breathes out.
I add a second finger and spend a few moments teasing him while I get a better look at him. He’s so sexy, and exactly the way I like my men. Toned but not overly muscular. He could stand to gain a few pounds, but it doesn’t take away from the way he looks. It’s more of me worrying if he’s eating properly.
I love the thick hair around his thick cock. Love that there isn’t any on his chest, but a small bit around his belly button.
“Get a condom,” I say.
When he spots them beside him, he grabs the roll and tears one off. He fumbles with it as I fuck his ass, purposely stroking his prostate to see him squirm. Once he gets it open, he offers it to me. His teeth are sunk into his bottom lip, eyes heated.
I smirk and shake my head. “Put it on me.”
Shock crosses his face, and I press onto his prostate, causing his eyes to roll back. “Fuck, Cole. That feels so good.”
“Condom,” I bark.
I move closer to him, so I’m within his reach. Surprisingly, he gets the condom on without issue.
“Please fuck me now,” he begs.
The begging… I like the begging.
I pull my fingers from him and notch my dick at his hole.
“It’s not too late to stop.”
“Do not stop,” he says sharply.
I tease his hole by rubbing my cock around it, dragging it all the way to his balls. He shivers as I slide back down and press inside him. His ass practically swallows my cock, taking me in so easily. The way he feels around me is too good.
It shouldn’t feel this goddamn good.
“You okay?” I ask when I’m balls deep.
He smirks. “Be better if you were moving.”
A growl tears from my throat as I grind into him. His head presses into the mattress, eyes squeezing shut. I grip his thighs and fuck him. His cock bounces against his stomach as I slam into him. Bryson moans and whines. I don’t take it easy on him, yet he begs for more.
“Harder, Cole. Fuck me harder.”
I do as he asks, which is exactly what I want, and pound harder. The way he wants me drives me wild. The way he listens so well, and smiles when I praise him—it’s perfect. It shouldn’t be, but it is.
“Fuck your fist, baby. Make yourself come because I’m close.”
Bryson reaches for his dick, and I watch the way he gets himself off. Focusing around the head, moving hard and fast.
“Cole—” He whimpers.
“Not yet,” I growl. “Almost, but not yet.”
“I need to come. Please—”
“No,” I rasp out.
“Cole, please—”
I love the way he’s begging for me to let him come, even though he’s the one stroking his dick. He could come if he wanted to, but what he wants is my permission. And that? Holy shit, if that’s not the hottest thing.
“I’m there, baby. Come with me.”
A few more thrusts and I’m coming. I force my eyes to stay open to watch Bryson as he coats his stomach in cum for the second time tonight. The sight intensifies my orgasm, and I feel it in my goddamn toes. I can barely breathe. I’m panting when it subsides, but I lean forward to spread his cum over his stomach. He smiles lazily, eyes closed like he’s half asleep. I squeeze his dick, getting out the last drops of cum that I collect with my thumb and swipe along his lips. His eyes shoot open.
“Lick it clean.”
He’s hesitant, but only for a second before he wraps his lips around my thumb and sucks.
I lean down further to kiss his soft lips. “Let’s shower.”
I lead him to the bathroom, dispose of the condom, put the shower on, and gesture for him to get inside when it’s hot. He reaches for the shampoo, but I push his hand away and pick it up.
“I can wash myself,” he says, seeming almost embarrassed when I begin washing his hair.
“Clearly, or you’d be a lot smellier than you are.”
“I’m not smelly at all,” he argues, peeking at me through squinted eyes.
“I like doing this,” I say more softly. “The sex was tame, but I still think it’s important.”
“Do you regularly have untame sex?” he asks carefully.
“Not regularly, no.”
I guide him under the water to rinse his hair. His eyes fall closed and his lips part as I massage the soap from his hair. I have the terrible urge to lean down and kiss him but force myself not to. That will only complicate things further. I’m fighting enough guilt as it is, and I wonder if he’s feeling the same way. Is he bothered by this? What are his plans? How is he going to face my son? I’m not sure how I will.
“Are you in pain?” I ask, needing to break the silence and get out of my head.
“Not even close,” he says with a lazy smile.
When his hair is rinsed, I wash him. He argues, but I don’t care. I make sure he’s clean and taken care of before I wash myself. Nothing about this is awkward. In fact, it’s scary how normal it all seems. We get out and dry ourselves off before heading into the room where I find us both something to wear.
“I always pack extras,” I say as I offer him a pair of sleep pants.
He takes them hesitantly. “I have clothes.”
“Well, these are right here, while yours are buried in your unopened suitcase.”
He looks at his suitcase, nods, and puts on the ones I gave him. He ties the string tight, considering they’re at least a size too big. Bryson looks like he fills out a medium pretty well, where I’m filling out a large and sometimes need extra-large depending on the brand.
“You hungry?” I ask, using the towel to dry off my hair that is still dripping water.
“I could eat.”
I toss the wet towels into the corner of the bathroom before ordering room service. Bryson gets comfortable on the bed, turning on the TV while we wait for the food. When it arrives, we eat quickly, both famished from the alcohol and sex. I make sure he drinks plenty of water. Then we go to bed.
It’s concerning that sharing a bed with him isn’t awkward. Cuddling is a bad idea, but I’d be lying if I said it didn’t cross my mind. This thing with Bryson can’t be more than this one night. Hell, even this shouldn’t have happened.
I should ask him where he’s going tomorrow. Or where he’s going to stay at all. But I can’t do it. My throat is tight as I replay the night and realize how badly I fucked up.
This should not have happened.
Offering him a place to stay should have been the end of it. Letting him sleep on the couch or the floor would have been fine. Sex never should have been on the table. Never. And had this night played out differently, and we hadn”t crossed lines, maybe I’d have done the right thing and offered for him to stay with me and Christopher. But I can’t do that now.
I’m not sure I’ve ever done anything so stupid in my entire life. What’s worse is I didn’t hate it. I just hate myself for being too weak to say no.