14. Jake #3
“Do you want me to say it out loud?” I asked. He must have wanted that, his smile was that impish. “Fine, you sassy thing.” I bent close and whispered in his ear, “Did you get the lube?”
“Yes,” he said, lifting his chin for a quick kiss, which I gladly gave him before he got up long enough to find his pants and pull a bottle out of the pocket. “It’s only a small bottle. I bought other things, too. ChapStick. A comb. Stupid, but I wanted to hide what I was buying.”
“You avoided gossip, then,” I said. “Smart.” To reward him for this, I covered him with my body and kissed him good and hard and long. Just tongues and mouths, my chest heaving already, my breath and heartbeats catching up to my desire.
With a short laugh, he pulled his head away to take a breath, clasping my shoulders. Blinking.
“There’s a lot of light in here,” he said.
“And also, who goes first? Shall you go first and fuck me? We can trade off. It’s your bed, so you can fuck me.
I don’t know about my bed, though. Not much privacy.
I share that bunkhouse with two teenagers who have more energy than I can ever remember having.
They never sleep.” He huffed a laugh. “Sorry, I’m babbling. Just nervous, I guess.”
With a shake of my head, I touched his cheek before sweeping my hand through his fair hair, catching that cowlick in my fingers.
I didn’t want to rush any of this. I wanted to recapture the lovely electric peace of the cottonwood glade. And honestly, I wanted him to come back for more. I wanted him to sigh beneath my hands and look at me with that blue-eyed gaze and lift his chin for more kisses.
I was no virgin, and I figured he wasn’t, either. But I felt like one, nerves alight all over me. Fingers trembling as I touched his belly and raked my fingertips across his skin.
“The light?” he asked. “I’m not ashamed. It’s just so bright in my eyes.”
That made sense. I always turned off the light before I got into bed, my feet knowing the way in the dark. So I got up and flicked off the lights, then tumbled back into bed. I pulled him to me and sighed into his neck, then inhaled his scent.
“I’ll be gentle with you,” I whispered into his skin.
“I know you will,” he said. “I can always see that in your eyes.”
Another kiss. I trailed my fingers down his side in the darkness and cupped his sweet behind. I felt him move beneath my hand, his body a little tense. A sense of him waiting in the dark. I hadn’t touched another man this way since the journalist had up and left town.
“Can you—?” I asked, but he didn’t know what I wanted. So I eased myself back and splayed my hand across his hip to urge him onto his front. He let me. Trusting me. I sensed him looking at me in the dark as he rested his cheek on a pillow, arms bent above his head.
I wanted to take this slow. To make it last. Last forever. I licked my fingers and knelt above him. Traced the curve of his bottom with those fingers and gently pushed one finger into him. His body was warm and tight. I heard a small sound of surprise, but not protest. This was all right, then.
I liked to go slowly. I always had.
Moving my finger in and out of him, a quiet motion, pressing inside him, tension on the rim of his anus.
Feeling the heat build on his skin. On mine.
My cock was hard, but we had all night. I told my body to be patient and focused on Dalton.
How he breathed. How his body shifted as I opened him.
One finger, then two. Stroking in an uneven rhythm that made his hips rise from the blanket, his breath hitching in his throat.
I added another finger, going even more slowly.
In and out, fingers curving up to tug on that tight curve of skin and then release.
He moaned, his breath rising like he was lost in a storm, and that was all to the good.
As long as he didn’t come too fast. I wanted him to last. I wanted to fuck him good and slow, and then I wanted to suck him off, suck everything out of him until his head tipped back and he saw stars in the blackness.
To give him pleasure until a shout shook through him and I had to cover it with hard kisses.
When his breath came in shudders and high-pitched sounds, I reached for the small bottle of lube and slicked my cock, cool now with the lube. Then spilled out more and warmed it between my fingers, because he deserved only warmth and sweetness, not the shock of cold gel.
I moved between his thighs, spreading them with my knees. Knelt close. Stroked his bottom, those lovely curves. Drew a line between his buttocks and pushed the skin-warmed gel inside him. Then I replaced my fingers with my cock, easing into that warmth and tightness.
More warmth grew between our bodies as I moved. Slowly. Always slowly, though my body was now screaming at me to thrust and thrust hard. He was so dear to me in that moment, though, that nothing on earth could make me go quicker than I was. He deserved all the buildup I could give him.
As I entered him fully, my weight on my elbows, my groin to his bottom, he reached back. A tender touch. A long pet along my side.
“Okay?” I asked, my voice a croak.
“Yes,” he said. “Jesus, yes.”
I moved into him. He shifted beneath me, an undulation down his spine tightening our bodies together. I kissed the back of his neck, and he dipped his chin, asking for more.
I gave him more. More kisses, damp and hot, sweet and light. On the back of his neck. The muscle of his shoulder. Anywhere I could reach while pushing into him, pulling out. I curved my back to thrust up with my hips, a small sharpness. A quick thrust. I almost couldn’t help it.
I paused.
“Go,” he said. “For the love of Christ, please go.”
He wanted it, then. He wanted everything.
I pushed in hard, snapped out. The slick motion was audible in the dark.
My body took over, did what it wanted. My ears pitched to the high keening coming from Dalton, like he’d been tossed into the wind and didn’t care that he couldn’t find the rope to pull him back.
As long as I lasted, I would do this animal thing. This fucking. This giving of pleasure to the point where holding back felt like punishment.