Chapter 12 #4
“I’m right here,” I said, hands dragging up his lean torso all the way to his long neck, then closing around it.
Bennet moved a hand down between us, taking my cock into a firm grip and grunting once as he pushed it down and pressed it against his hole. “Fuck me,” he said, his voice hoarse, but the command in it was unmistakable. “Fuck me before I go crazy.”
He relaxed. I could feel it on the tip of my cock, the tension seeping away, and the muscle loosening for me.
I’d worked him so wet and loose that I didn’t worry about it so much, but I leaned in slowly anyway.
I sank into him so carefully that neither of us breathed for a long while, long after the first inch broke through an invisible barrier of fear and anticipation and settled inside his body.
Bennet gave a shaky nod, and I swayed my hips gently backward before thrusting my cock just a little deeper into him.
I gazed at his face both because he glowed with unearthly beauty and because I waited for him to wince.
He didn’t. I was perhaps careful enough to avoid it.
So instead of waiting for some hint of pain to show itself on his face, I focused hard on the feeling between us and the tension of his flesh around mine.
He was warm and relaxed and just as focused, jerking his hips off the cushion and thrusting the back of his head deeper into the pillow.
His lower back arched a little as he created an angle that suited him, and I felt myself sliding deeper into him again.
Finally, as I impaled him gently some four inches deep, I knew the hard part was over, and all that was left was for us to surrender to every feral instinct our bodies could come up with.
We exhaled together, mouths searching and finding one another.
Do you have any idea what you are doing to me? I wanted to ask him, but I couldn’t find the words or my voice or the sense in having a conversation just now. Do you have any idea just how good I feel next to you?
But I said nothing. Words were something that floated through my mind, swirling in flurries like snowflakes. Nothing you could catch and hold onto.
The tension pooled in my groin, making my cock feel stiffer and my balls feel tighter. It wound me like a tight spring, but I held myself back, swinging my hips down and pushing deeper into Bennet’s body just for the joy of seeing his lips part and form a silent oh.
He looked into my eyes without breaking the contact. His legs, still curled around my waist, tightened their hold on me, and he threw his arms around my upper back.
His cock throbbed constantly against my abs and his.
And when I squeezed my hands tighter around his neck, he inhaled shakily and nodded, something changing in the way he looked at me. It was like he’d always wanted someone to do that, but never had the courage to ask.
I’ll show you all the things you’ve been afraid of asking for, I thought. Just give me time, and I’ll make you fly.
As our bodies fell into the rhythm—not by design or experience or some secret knowledge, but by chance and by simply following what seemed to feel right for both of us—I picked up the pace.
I sped up little by little, waiting for the sound of Bennet’s voice and the speed of his panting to tell me whether to slow down or keep going. And as I sped up, the intensity grew.
Sweat dripped from my forehead, and I slammed my mouth against Bennet’s, moaning into him and fucking him harder as we let our bodies coil and twist and contort around each other.
Bennet pushed my back just a little and huffed. “Lie on your back,” he whispered. “Please.”
I rolled us around so suddenly that he yelped in surprise and laughed, then quickly continued to moan as he sank down on my cock. His head dropped back as I settled on the mattress with Bennet sitting on top of me.
His dick was slick along the shaft, precum still dripping and making me salivate.
As he swayed his hips gently back and forth, taking me deeper into his body again, I brushed my thumb over his cock and sucked the precum off my fingertip. “You’re so fucking delicious,” I said.
“You like that?”
“Hell yeah,” I said, resting a hand on the small of his back for support as he slowly leaned back and back and back, his dick rising like a mast between us.
I sat up as Bennet planted his hands far behind his back and leaned away from me, still managing to move his hips up and down, sliding along my cock. The movement made his cheeks press together, adding pressure to my aching cock, and I lived for every second of it.
I bent down, too, hands on his hips to aid his movement, and I managed to lean low enough to just about catch the tip of his cock with my lips.
Maybe a few months of doing yoga would have been useful now because I wanted so much more of him, but I did what I could, and I made sure he stayed inside my mouth for another heartbeat. And another. And another.
His precum was sweet and salty in equal parts on my tongue.
His dick throbbed harder as he swayed up and down my cock, rising higher each time to thrust himself into my mouth.
When he whimpered in warning, I grabbed him hard by the hips and made him stay where he was until cum spilled into my mouth and he shuddered so hard that I couldn’t hold him together if I wanted to.
Hot and delicious, Bennet’s cum filled my mouth excitedly, spilling fast and hard while his voice rose high in a litany of profanity. He lifted himself higher still, slipping off my cock as he rammed his into my mouth, and I took him all.
Then, as he calmed, he pushed me onto my back again, panting and sweaty.
He took my cock into his hand and sat down on me again, releasing a deep breath of air with satisfaction and riding me hard until the pressure and the grind drove me far over the line and made me explode with lust and pleasure.
I came hard inside of him, filling the condom and pulsing through him until I was completely spent and catching my breath.
Bennet rose carefully, legs shaking and fingers trembling.
As he rose, I rose with him, wrapped my arms around him, and pulled him down so hard we toppled onto the bed together. He wasn’t getting away from me. Not even for a quick shower. I wouldn’t let him.
Just for a moment, I desperately needed to hold him.
I lay on my back with Bennet half on top of me, his head tucked under my chin like it belonged there.
Our legs were tangled, skin slick with sweat, the sheets a wreck beneath us.
My chest rose and fell hard, breath still catching on the aftershocks.
Everything felt loose and heavy and unreal in the best way.
For a long moment, neither of us spoke.
Bennet shifted first, a small movement that sent a warm awareness through me anyway. His fingers traced absent patterns on my chest, not exploring, not testing. Just grounding. Like he was reassuring himself that I was still here.
“You okay?” I asked quietly.
He hummed against my skin, the sound vibrating straight through me. “Yeah. Just…processing.”
I smiled and pressed a kiss into his hair. It smelled faintly like soap and sweat and him. “Same.”
I pulled the blanket up around us and adjusted until he was more comfortable, my arm firm around his back. He sighed, the sound soft and open, and relaxed into me fully. The way he trusted the moment hit me harder than anything that came before.
I brushed my thumb along his spine, slow and steady. “You did great,” I murmured, because I needed him to hear it out loud.
He let out a quiet laugh, breathless and disbelieving. “You say that like there was a test.”
“There wasn’t,” I said. “But if there had been, you’d have crushed it.”
He lifted his head just enough to look at me, eyes warm and dazed behind his lashes. “You’re impossible.”
“Yeah,” I said. “You’re figuring that out.”
We lay there until our breathing evened out, until the buzz faded into something calmer and sweeter. At some point, my hand found his, and our fingers laced together without either of us thinking about it.
“I should probably shower,” he said eventually, reluctant.
“Good idea,” I said, equally unwilling to move. “You’re sticky.”
He made a face. “You’re not exactly fresh.”
“Rude,” I said, but I grinned and shifted anyway. I stood first, offering him a hand. He took it, a little unsteady, and I steadied him without comment.
The shower steamed up fast. I stepped under the water first, adjusting the temperature, then pulled him in with me. The heat wrapped around us, soothing sore muscles and washing the night away piece by piece.
We didn’t rush. I handed him soap, let him rinse, let the moment stay gentle. He leaned against the tile while I washed his hair for him, fingers careful, unhurried. His eyes closed, shoulders dropping like he’d finally let go of something heavy.
When it was my turn, he copied me clumsily but earnestly, hands sliding over my shoulders, down my arms. Nothing frantic. Nothing urgent. Just touch for the sake of touch.
After, we dried off side by side, bumping elbows, laughing softly when the towel slipped. Back in bed, clean and warm, Bennet curled against me again, this time easier. Like something had settled into place.
I stared at the ceiling, his weight solid and real against me, and felt something unfamiliar bloom in my chest. This wasn’t just lust, though lust was undeniable.
As if he could read my thoughts, Bennet began to draw circles over my chest and abs, his hand descending carefully along my torso. When he looked up at me, I knew without saying a word that he felt it, too. It wasn’t just a desperate need for more, but something else entirely.
And even if I couldn’t get to the bottom of it, I surrendered to the moment and to his hands and to whatever he wanted to do for the rest of the night.