six #2
I pull his face around then, letting him have my mouth again. My tongue slides against his, and I grip his cock, my stroke slow and firm. Precum oozes from his slit, coating my hand.
“I want to make you cum,” I growl into his ear. “Whatever it takes.”
“Not yet,” he says, turning in my arms. “Lay back and spread your legs.”
He pushes me back onto the pillows and opens my knees, eyeing my erection before licking his lips and sliding down on the bed.
I rest my shoulders on the headboard, enjoying the fucking spectacular view of Colt naked in my bed before he’s even started.
Over his shoulder I can see the muscular planes of his back, his round, tight ass, the ink darkening his hard shoulders.
And then he pushes my cock against my stomach, his tongue lathing over my balls, tickling the base of my cock before sliding up my entire length.
I drop my head back, my eyes falling closed as his hot, wet mouth takes me in.
My fingers sink into the tangle of his curly blond hair, and I bite back a whimper. For a second, he tenses, like he thinks I’m going to take control. But I know he needs that as much as I need to give it to him. He needs to know he can trust me.
“Keep going, baby,” I say on a breath, stroking his hair until he resumes. He grips my shaft, his mouth working my tip, sucking the salty precum from me with a moan that lights my whole body on fire.
“Fuck, yes, that’s it,” I mutter, my hips flexing in little encouraging thrusts.
“You feel so good.” I stroke his hair, his neck, his cheek, where I can feel him suctioning for me.
My entire body is burning, consumed by the fever dream of this moment, Colt Darling sucking my cock, moaning around it, slurping me down, his tongue swirling over my skin, his toes curling into my sheets, his hard body writhing with the same pleasure he’s giving me.
He lifts up to spit into his hand, coating his fingers, then slides his lips down over my cock while he pushes two fingers into me, stretching me.
He pumps in and out with his fingers and his mouth, and I lose my mind a little.
I must be having the same dream I’ve had a hundred times before, but it’s so much better this time, except I can’t say the words I usually say, so I pant out his name instead.
I should tell him, but I can’t, not even when he’s trusting me, which says more than any words I could say.
He’s making himself vulnerable for me in a way he never did, even in our few, rough, reckless encounters when we were young, which were fueled as much by hatred as lust. Back then, he never took off his clothes for me, never let me have even the chance at taking control.
Back then, our hookups were a punishment for all the bullying, and though it may have been what we both needed, it was nothing compared to this.
Colt pushes his fingers deep, pressing them right against the sweet spot, and my back bows off the mattress.
“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” I warn.
My breaths come faster, my hand fisting the sheet, the other hand around the back of his head as I lift.
Instead of pulling back, he sucks. Incinerating heat explodes through me, and I thrust up into his mouth, stars exploding behind my eyes as I spend into his throat.
He swallows reflexively, giving one last hard pull that makes my entire body spasm.
He pops off and spits it into his hand. Then he sits back on his knees, gripping my thighs and dragging me down the bed in one rough pull.
Flat on my back, I barely have time to blink up at him before he leans past me, grabs the pillows, and stuffs them under my hips.
He kneels up, smoothing the handful of my cum over his cock.
“You clean?”
“Yes,” I manage. “But I never fuck without a condom.”
“Want me to get one?”
“No.”
He stops, his gaze rising to mine. “You sure?”
“Yes,” I say again. “If you’re careful too.”
“Always,” he says, pressing the head of his cock to my entrance. “Until now.”
He pushes inside me, the delicious sting making my back arch off the bed as he stretches me. I suck in a breath through clenched teeth, pressing my head back into the mattress.
“Too much?” he asks, his hands stroking over my knees and up my thighs. After a second, I shake my head, and he grips my hip, moving in shallow thrusts until I adjust.
I reach for him, my hand covering his as he squeezes my hipbone, his thumb cutting in. “Kiss me.”
“Greedy boy,” he says, smiling down at me as he reaches for my cock. He strokes me until I’m hard again, then pushes up fully onto his knees and sinks deeper, filling me completely.
“Fuck,” I grit out. “Fuck, Colt, I—”
I bite my lip to keep the words in, gripping tighter to his hand, hoping he knows.
“Touch yourself,” he growls, his eyes dark on mine, a rainstorm to my fire, keeping me from blazing out of control.
I grip my cock, stroking myself while he rocks forward and back, pumping into me deeper with each thrust, his hands moving over my body, my legs and sides, my hand around my cock, my arms, my torso.
“Let me touch you,” I say when I can’t take it anymore.
“So needy,” he says, a knowing smile playing over his lips. But he leans over me, resting one hand on the bed and wrapping the other around my throat, pressing in so deep I can feel his pubic piercing press into my perineum.
“I’m going to cum inside you,” he rasps, his eyes clouded with lust. “Wrap your legs around me, baby boy.”
I obey, sliding my legs around his hips, running my hands over all that bare skin like a starving man getting to feast at last. I caress his arms, his neck, his collarbones, his ribs and back, his pierce nipples, his hips and ass.
I can’t get enough of him. Using my legs, I drag him in harder, deeper, as his thrusts become more erratic.
He grabs for my cock, giving it a few quick strokes, until it’s too much.
The fire in his touch consumes me, body and soul, and I spill onto my stomach.
“Fuck, Duke,” he blurts. He slams his mouth down on mine, moaning into me while he erupts inside me, his tongue scorching mine with need, his body trembling.
Our kiss lasts longer, until the aftershocks racing through us both have subsided and he sinks onto me, laying his head on my shoulder.
I squeeze his ass with both hands, and he groans, shuddering against me.
“You better stop that,” he says against the hollow of my throat. “I don’t think I can go again after that. Pretty sure you broke me.”
Warmth swells in my chest, and I wrap my arms around him, cradling him against me. I wind my fingers into his messy hair and press my nose to the top of his head, breathing him in, pretending this is real, that it can last, that he feels the same way I do.
When he relaxes onto my chest, and his breathing slows and deepens, I press my lips to his forehead.
My heart hammers as I whisper the words I never got to say into the dark room, where pale blue light creeps in along the windows and color tints the horizon beyond the city skyline.
I know he won’t answer, but a little part of me still hopes he will.
A little part of me still dies when he doesn’t, because I’m afraid he wouldn’t even if he were awake to hear it.