“Would I…?” I asked softly, letting my weight settle a little more into his hips, drawing a soft moan from his lips.
“Fuck me?” he breathed out, his voice low and rough, eyes closed as his hips rocked slightly against me.
Between us, my cock jumped, answering the question for me. Just to make myself clear, I bent, kissed beside his ear, and half-whispered, half-growled, “With pleasure.”
He writhed under me, and I caught the distinctive sharp-bitter-musky smell of precum. I growled again, unable to help myself, pushing against him.
I pulled open the small drawer of my thrifted bedside table to grab the lube and condoms, but Elliot put his fingers on my wrist.
“Do you have it?” he asked me, his cheeks flushed and eyes bright.
“What?” I asked him, feeling a frown slightly furrow my forehead.
“The dildo you used… on yourself.”
I swallowed. “Y-yes.”
“Would you…”
I’d already taken it out of the drawer.
Elliot’s breathing was fast, the skin of his face and chest flushed, pupils wide and eyes shining. “Show me,” he rasped. “Do to me what you did to yourself.”
I sat back on my heels, suppressing a wince as my knee protested—fuck my knee. I’d pay for it later, but right now I didn’t care. Right now, I had Elliot splayed out in front of me, his mouth slightly open as he panted, his eyes fixed on the toy I held in one hand and the bottle of lube held in the other.
I prepped it the way I always did—although this time instead of fantasizing about Elliot, he was here with me. And it was his body that was going to be stretched and opened instead of mine.
I took a couple of deep breaths, trying to get my libido under control as thoughts about Elliot thrashing as I pushed the toy inside him—Stop thinking about it and do it, I told myself.
I rubbed it between my palms, warming the rubber, then stroked lube onto it, noting the way the flickering of his pulse sped up under the skin on the side of his throat.
Elliot bent his knees, placing his feet on the mattress on either side of my legs, so that he could move a pillow under himself, raising his hips. I took my lubed fingers and gently ran the tip of one over the highly sensitive flesh, watching as Elliot’s head dropped back, his chest rising and falling as he breathed through the sensations.
I ran my fingertip around the rim of his body, and he pushed his hips a little higher into my hand. I teased at the muscle,feeling it resist despite Elliot’s soft whimper and the press of his hips toward me. “Baby,” he gasped out as I teased him again. “Please.”
I swallowed the sound my throat tried to make and took away my hand, going instead to the toy he’d wanted me to use in the first place. I started with the narrower side, pressing the tip against him, feeling the resistance of his muscle increase slightly, then give in as it slid inside him. Elliot moaned, low and deep, a sound that I felt all the way into my balls.
I shifted my weight, leaning down on one elbow so I didn’t have to stop doing what I was doing, but I could also kiss him—I started with his shoulder, my lips brushing the wingtips of a long-legged bird at the top of his bicep, up over the crest of his deltoid, across his trapezius, and up the side of his throat, paying special attention to the puckered skin of his scar.
“More,” he gasped out, and I obeyed, pushing the dildo deeper. He let out a rush of breath, hands fisting in the bedsheets. I eased it back a little, and he made a soft, strangled sound, so I pushed it deeper again.
“Fuck,” he gasped. “More.”
I whimpered a little, but obeyed again, sliding it out a little before pushing harder.
“God. Fuck. More.”
I withdrew the toy, lubed the other side, then, gently pressed the wider end against him, earning a guttural sound that was part groan and part growl. His hips pushed up, his legs tensing, the lines and indentations of muscle clear on his coppery skin. I didn’t wait for him to ask for more—I kept it moving, sliding a little deeper each time, slow, but relentless.
Elliot was panting now, sweat forming a sheen on his smooth skin. “Seth,” he managed.
“Mmmm?” I wasn’t any less wound up, my stomach aching from clenching muscles to keep myself under control. My ballsached, and I was desperate to touch myself—but I knew I wouldn’t be able to stand it for very long if I did.
“I want…you,” he gasped out.
I tightened my jaw, struggling against the electric sensation rushing through my groin. “I won’t last,” I told him roughly.
His hazel eyes locked onto mine. “Neither… will I.”
