I fumbled for his fly, and he let go of me to bat my hands out of the way, stripping himself of both jeans and tight, dark blue underwear.
I let out a soft moan as the familiar, beautiful sight of his cock, standing out from the dark hair between his thighs, and dropped to my knees, ignoring the flash of pain as the left one hit the thick rug. I might pay for it later, but it was worth it.
Both hands gripped my hair as I drew him into my mouth, the muscles of his thighs trembling as I sucked and pulled.
“Fuck,” he gasped out, and the fact that I had him shaking only encouraged me. His hips bucked in my hands, and I slid them around to grip his ass, feeling the muscles quiver and tighten in response to what I was doing. “Seth… Oh, fuck.”
One fist tightened on my hair, and he pulled me away.
“On the bed,” he growled. “Now.”
I put my hands on the bed to push myself, painfully, back to my feet, then sat abruptly as Elliot pushed me down.
“Move back,” he demanded.
I crawled backwards, and he followed me on hands and knees. I hit the pillows at the bed’s head, and stopped, but Elliot kept going, climbing up my body, his legs and hips pushing mine apart.
“Tell me you want me,” he rasped.
“God, yes,” I agreed.
He fumbled in the bedside drawer, coming back with lube and a condom. “Seth?—”
“Yes,” I repeated, moving one of the pillows under my hips to give us the right angle for where this was going.
He pushed a lubed finger into me, and I felt my eyes roll back in my head. I’d missed the feeling of his hand. His fingers. His cock.
“More,” I demanded, spreading my legs wider and reaching between us to wrap a hand around his cock, hard and hot and silky.
He let out a soft groan, slipping a second finger into me, making me squirm. “You keep doing that and this isn’t going to last,” he told me.
“I don’t care,” I said, stroking him.
He moaned, his hips pushing forward, seemingly of their own accord.
“Seth, baby, I need to fuck you,” he gasped, “but I’m not going to last long.”
I spread my legs, offering myself. “Then fuck me,” I told him.
He pulled himself out of my hand and slid on a condom, stroking himself a couple times with a lubed hand. “I?—”
“Now,” I demanded.
The sound he made was strangled, a mingled whimper and moaning gasp, but he did as I asked, pushing into me, my legs bent back to give him space. Both of us moaned, his urgent, mine one almost of relief as I felt him stretch me, burning just enough that it sent electricity straight to my balls, making them ache.
“Seth—”
“Harder,” I begged.
“Seth—”
“Please.” I wanted him to come apart in my arms, to lose control because I made him lose control.
He panted as he pulled back, then thrust forward once, twice, a third time, hard and fast, then cried out as he came, his breath mingling with mine as my own orgasm chased his.
He bent, his forehead pressed to him, our breath mingling as we panted.
“Fuck,” he breathed softly.
