14
Milo
Spencer’s mouth is hot against mine, and my lips feel swollen from how long we’ve been kissing.
We’re both naked from the waist up, and his rough palms slide up my sides, making me shiver when his thumbs brush my nipples.
He grabs my ass with both hands and lifts me like I weigh nothing.
I wrap my legs around him on instinct, arms looping around his neck.
“Where are we going, boss?”
He growls against my jaw. “Stop calling me boss.”
I grin, tightening my legs around his waist. “Okay, sir.”
He squeezes my ass hard, fingers digging in near the crease. I yelp, and the laugh that follows cuts off when he kisses me again and walks us toward the door without breaking stride.
“The first time I fuck you, I want it to be on a proper bed.”
“Bold assumption,” I manage, “that you’re the one who’ll be doing the fucking.”
He freezes mid-step and looks at me. His eyes are dark, pupils blown, and his face has gone careful.
I kiss the corner of his mouth. “Just kidding. We’re on the same page. Although seeing you in that jockstrap did give me some ideas about—”
I don’t get to finish because Spencer kisses me, swallowing the rest of the sentence whole, one hand sliding up into my hair to hold me right where he wants me. I forget what I was even saying.
His bedroom is bigger than I remember from the one time he walked me through the house on day one. I’d registered gray walls and a huge bed, nothing else. He crosses it in about four strides and sets me down on the edge of the mattress.
Spencer kneels in front of the bed and peels off my sneakers first, then my socks, then works my shorts down my legs, taking his time even though his hands aren’t steady.
He stands, hooks his thumbs into his own waistband, and shoves his sweatpants and briefs down in one motion.
His cock springs free, hard and flushed dark at the head. I can’t stop staring.
“It’s getting awfully lonely over here,” I say, my voice rough.
He sets his knees on the mattress on either side of my hips, the bed dipping under his weight. “Turn over.”
I follow the order, rolling onto my stomach. The comforter’s soft against my chest, my cock trapped against my belly.
Spencer shifts behind me, and his mouth lands on my neck, open and wet.
I shudder. He kisses down the column of my spine, using his teeth at the top, his tongue in the hollow of my shoulder blade, his lips brushing each vertebra like he’s counting them.
When he reaches the small of my back, he bites, making me gasp.
Then he’s kissing lower, over the rise of my ass, and I’m trembling, my hips shifting without my permission.
He bites my left cheek, then my right, and I yelp and laugh and moan all at once, the sound muffled in the comforter.
“Turn again.”
I roll onto my back, and my cock slaps against my belly, leaving a wet spot. Spencer’s eyes drop to it, and his jaw sets.
“Spence, you don’t have to,” I start, because I don’t want this to be an obligation.
He ignores me, leaning down and licking me from base to tip, one long stripe that has my hips bucking off the bed and my hands fisting in the sheets.
He takes the head into his mouth and sucks, his tongue pressing into the slit, and when he tastes my precum, he moans.
I curse and reach for him with both hands, finding his hair and stroking through it, not pushing, just holding on.
“Nobody’s ever—” I say, and catch myself, but too late.
He pops off my cock and stares at me, breathing hard. “Nobody’s ever done this to you?”
My face heats, the flush spreading down my chest. “I’m usually the one on the giving end.”
Spencer dives back down and takes me deeper than before, his lips stretching around my shaft, his tongue flattening against the underside.
He pulls back and goes down again, and again, working more of me into his mouth each time until the head presses against the back of his throat and he gags, pulling off, coughing once into his fist.
“Hey,” I say, stroking his jaw. “Easy. You’re not being scored.”
But he doesn’t stop. He leans down and sucks on my balls, one and then the other, his tongue moving over them, and then he goes lower still, his hands on my thighs, spreading me wide and pushing my knees up toward my chest. His breath moves against my entrance, and I whimper.
He licks one slow line straight over it, and my whole body jerks.
He starts lapping at me in earnest then, his tongue broad and insistent, and my last coherent thought is that I’m glad I took a thorough shower before this, and that I haven’t eaten anything all day, not even those pretzels he bought me.
Then he pushes his tongue inside me and my thoughts scatter entirely, replaced by the wet heat of him fucking into me, opening me up.
A few beads of precum leak from my cock, and I’m pulling him away by the hair, the words tumbling out. “Spencer, wait, please, I’m gonna… I don’t want to come yet.”
He stops and straightens up, hovering above me with his cock in his fist, giving himself a few slow strokes before grabbing hard at the base.
“Please, Spencer, I need you inside me.”
He reaches toward his nightstand, fishes in the drawer, and comes back with a bottle of lube and a strip of condoms.
I look at the condoms, then at him. “Would you fuck me bare?” Then, before he can think I’m reckless, I add, “I haven’t been with anybody else since my last test. Months. I’ve been so busy with—” I gesture at nothing, meaning the job, my family, everything.
Spencer goes still, then sets the condoms on the nightstand. “After the kitchen,” he says, voice low, “when you told me you wanted me to fuck you. I got tested, too. Everything came back clear.”
He went to a clinic for this? Sat in a waiting room, gave his name at a desk. He’s been thinking about this, about us. Holy shit.
I take the bottle of lube from him and make a show of it, pouring some onto my fingers and reaching down between my legs. I start with one finger, pushing in slow, watching his face as he watches me. He hasn’t moved, his hand still gripping his cock.
“Add another one.”
I smirk at him. “Bossy.”
But I do it, working two fingers in, scissoring them. He watches where my fingers disappear, hips twitching forward.
“Another,” he growls.
I add a third finger and gasp at the stretch, at the burn that isn’t quite pain yet. I work myself open, fucking into my own hand, and Spencer makes a sound low in his throat.
“I need to be inside you, Milo, or I’m going to come all over you before we even start.”
“Wouldn’t mind that,” I say, grinning, but the look on his face stops the rest of the tease, and I tell him instead, “Lie back.”
He stretches out on the mattress, and I climb over him and pour lube generously over his cock, working it up and down once, twice, watching his stomach tighten. I reach behind myself and guide him to my entrance.
It stings at first, even with all the preparation, because Spencer is huge and my body needs a moment to remember how to do this. When the head of his cock breaches me, we both groan, his hands coming up to grip my hips.
“Take your time,” he says, strained.
He’s holding me steady, not pushing, just keeping me balanced as I sink onto him at my own pace. I go inch by inch, feeling every ridge of him, every vein, until he’s fully seated inside me and I’m sitting flush against him. I stay there for a long moment, breathing through my nose.
“You’re so big,” I tell him, and my voice comes out helpless. “Stretching me so good, Spencer, I love sitting on your cock.”
He jerks inside me at that, a full-body twitch.
“I wanna sit on it all day,” I continue. “Never getting off.”
“Show me,” he says. “Show me how much you like it, sunshine.”
I start moving, rising up until he’s almost out of me, then sinking back down hard. I hold on to his biceps for balance, feeling the muscle flex under my hands as he begins to thrust up into me, meeting me on the downstroke.
We’re loud: the slap of my ass against his pelvis, our ragged breathing, the filthy sound of him moving inside me. He thrusts harder the more I take, and I ride him, leaning down to kiss him open-mouthed.
“So tight,” he mutters against my lips. “Squeezing me so good… You were made to ride my cock, baby.”
“Feels too good,” I gasp. “Spence, I’m close—”
“Don’t hold back. Give it to me, sunshine.”
I come hard, untouched, my cock trapped between our slick stomachs, and Spencer murmurs through it, telling me how good I’m milking him, how he’s about to fill me up.
“Do it,” I beg. “I want your cum in me, Spencer, please—”
He pushes up into me a few more times, hips stuttering, and then he freezes, buried deep, pulsing inside me as he comes, my name breaking apart in his throat.
When we finally come down, I collapse on top of him, my face in his neck, my body limp.
He’s still inside me, softening but not gone, and neither of us moves to change that.
His hands come up and stroke down my back, my hair, and he murmurs into my sweat-dampened curls about cleaning me up and feeding me, but I can’t move.
I doze off like that, still full of him, his heartbeat slowing under my ear.