11. Grayson #3
Harder and faster he used my body for both our pleasures, ramming me and slapping me against himself.
And as I surrendered to his control, my fingers reached for his long, sexy neck.
I held him, closed my hands around him, and gave him a threatening squeeze.
It awakened something beastly in his eyes.
He fucked me harder in return, our movements synchronized.
He lifted his body off the floor, barely falling back at all, and filled me balls deep, pushing me higher and higher on my knees while holding my hips firmly so I didn’t go too far.
The act resembled a brawl, except for the pleasures that had never been so real and so rich.
And when Avery dropped back on the floor, exhausted, I continued to ride him just as fast and just as hard.
Dragging myself back and forth against his crotch, I leaned even closer to him.
My lips smashed against his and my dick was trapped between our abdomens.
I rode him, and he synced with me, helping me as I let my cock rub against our bodies.
The tension was too much to endure. His dick was persistently adding pressure to my prostate and our bodies were pressing too hard against my cock.
I couldn’t control it. I could barely yelp a warning into his mouth when the way he swung his hips tipped me over.
I exploded in an instant, speeding up to get the most out of the gift he had given me.
I straightened my back and went down on him while white ribbons of cum squirted over his sweaty torso.
I stuck my index finger into my mouth while Avery fueled my climax with quick, determined motions.
He fucked me faster as I licked my finger.
In the next heartbeat, I pressed my slick index finger against his tight hole, entering the warmth of his body with one well-placed push.
I felt him close around my knuckle, his moan louder and his eyes rolling back in pleasure.
He throbbed hard, filling me the way I loved. And I did love it. I couldn’t describe the sensation it gave me. To have him so deep inside of me and to know he spent himself in me gave me more joy than I could have imagined.
When Avery’s body calmed down under me, I didn’t move.
I was barely breathing. Each breath of air was shallower than the one before it.
My body trembled, but I sat on him, unwilling to let him slide out.
I didn’t want us to part just yet. I wanted our bodies connected, our souls tied together, our hearts beating in the same rhythm.
I wanted us to exist as one, with him inside of me, and our fingers twining, and our breaths in unison.
“Avery,” I whispered. I didn’t mean to talk. I didn’t want to chat. His name was on my lips and it was a compulsive thing, a reflex. I had to say it, or I would die.
“Gray,” he said, understanding the depths of my feelings and my thoughts without any words exchanged.
He held me where I was. He looked into my eyes.
He kept the contact going until I lost all track of time.
Even now, after we had finished, this room existed outside of reality.
We were separate from the rest of the world. It didn’t touch us. We had one another.
Avery was getting softer and so was I. The warmth of his passion filled me just the same, but I longed for us to turn to marble and never move again. And when he slid out of me, wincing once and chuckling after, I lay on top of him.
My face rested on the middle of his torso, my ear over his heart, and I listened to his calming heartbeats. Alive. This person was alive and real, his heart was pumping just like mine. Of the billions of people on the planet, how was it that I met the best one?
Warmth spread through my chest in a completely new wave. It made me want to cry, although I couldn’t tell why. The immeasurable joy that filled me was hard to contain when my impulse was to climb the tallest mountain and shout to everyone that Avery Collins made me happy.
I bit my lower lip and held it all in. It hadn’t even been two months since the night I asked him to be my boyfriend. It needed time, a thing like this. And I had to understand it myself before confusing the guy I cared so deeply about.
Again, hot tears welled in my eyes, and a cry of joy was stuck in my throat when I looked at the window.
A small lamp was lit there, and under it was a single dry rose, the very one I had given him.
He had carried it all night and placed it where he could always see it.
And though it was dry and old, it was just as beautiful.
I found myself moving, my lips on his warm chest, kisses trailing all over him.
And when I reached his lips, we kissed and murmured things too sweet to bear.
I was grateful for him. He made things make sense.
The love-starved boy I had been was leaping with joy inside of me.
The lonely person I had been was packing his things and leaving never to come back. I would never be lonely again.