“I just want to make sure you’re ready.”
“I think I sound pretty ready.” Tristan forced himself to focus right on Henry’s eyes. “I want you. Henry Isaacson, I want every part of you.”
Henry pulled his fingers free, leaving Tristan with aching emptiness that longed to be filled. Tristan lifted his head to watch as Henry slicked his own cock with the remaining lube. Then he ripped open the box of condoms and pulled out a blue one. It stretched taut and gleamed over his cock as he rolled it on, and Tristan’s stomach tightened in the most electrifying way. Like in that moment of hesitation at the apex of a roller coaster.
Henry popped the cap on the lube and dolloped some on the tip of his cock. Slowly, he spread it down the length... or maybe it wasn’t slow at all. Maybe it was just Tristan’s longing that made it take forever and a fucking day.
Finally, Henry went back to the bottle for more. He spread it around Tristan’s hole, circling in as he went, until his finger slid inside again and, for a few moments, there was fullness. But it wasn’tsatisfying. Not when Tristan could see what was there on the horizon. The spit of land for a desperate traveler. With everything he wanted and needed within reach, a finger of fullness wasn’t going to cut it.
Henry passed Tristan the bottle of lube. “For his pleasure.”
“His pleasure is already here, I think.” Still, Tristan slicked his cock, and the lube tingled and warmed against the stiff shaft... and especially his head. Goddamn it, the head was sensitive. It wasalwayssensitive, but riding that wave of expectation doubled, tripled that sensitivity.
Henry’s rough, strong fingers wrapped around Tristan’s legs, holding him right at the knees. He shifted Tristan closer to the edge of the bed and raised his hips a little higher. Tristan fumbled for another pillow and slipped it under himself to prop his ass up. He felt so exposed. A tiny flame of embarrassment burst to life in his core, but it paled in comparison to the ravening that shook through his every cell, waiting for Henry in the too-long seconds it took to get in position.
But finally, Henry was ready. Soon a slick, hard tip pressed against his hole, and he forced himself not to tense, to relax. Even as Henry’s shaft pushed forward, he relaxed, and it slid in quickly, a restrained gasp blossoming from Tristan’s lips. Just the tip in, and he already felt so much fuller, so much more connected. He resisted the urge to fall into closed-eyed ecstasy, and instead stared at Henry’s face as his cock made slow progress. Henry’s eyes crinkled at the corners, his smile faded into open-mouthed panting, and the blood rushed into his cheeks and ears, the sweat dripping down his nose and off onto the bedsheets. Henry in ecstasy.I’d buy that painting.
And all the while, the pressure increased, inexorable as the rising tide. And somehow so soon and yet after so long, there was the telltale scratch of coarse bush against Tristan’s ass. The tension visibly dropped from Henry’s face and body, and he loosened his grip on Tristan’s legs... although Tristan had never noticed his fingers tighten to begin with.
Henry sighed and looked down at Tristan. There was a softness in his eyes, contrary to the raging animal in Tristan that clawed at his middle and scratched and howled to be satisfied. Henry evensmiledat him. “Are you okay?” There was a sharp, rough edge to his voice, and the redness remained in his face, but hemeantit. God, he actually wanted to know if Tristan was okay.
“Yeah.” Tristan felt his own lips curve upward. Once a guy got this far, how often were they willing to stop? That simple three-word question only set the beast within raging stronger and harder.
Tristan slowly slid his hand all the way to the base of his cock. He tightened his hole as much as he could, hungry for deeper connection, more points of contact. Judging from the shocked-but-ecstatic expression that flashed across Henry’s face, it was appreciated. Tristan was warm, ravenous for more.
He drew a ragged breath. “Ineedyou to fuck me, Henry. More than I’ve needed anything before.” He bit down on his lower lip and focused on the full feeling, the way it shot lightning and light and power in tendrils through his body. “Come on.”
Henry nodded and rocked his hips backward. If being filled was ecstasy, the receding was almost unbearable. At once Tristan longed to have that fullness again, to be completely, intimately connected with Henry, and just... So. Much. Sensation. It was always greater than the going in. There were no waves, no manageable burst of feeling like there was on the thrust forward. The out was... every nerve ending, blasting and crackling simultaneously. Tristan sweated, caught between moaning and begging for more. If being with Henry was figs and honey and whipped cream, then that goddamn pull out was passion fruit and champagne and blood oranges—bright and overwhelming and decadent, all at the same time.
When Henry pushed back in, it was a little faster. Waves of pressure rocked through Tristan, followed by that brilliant explosion of nerve endings on the pull out. The red spread from Henry’s face and neck and crept slowly down his chest. Exhilarated, Tristan pumped his fist, syncing with Henry. There was no pain, no worry, noanythingbeyond the joining of their bodies.
Now Henry was really going, his pelvis slamming into Tristan’s ass. His gentle, quiet breathing turned to ragged panting, and Tristan could barely pump his cock fast enough to keep up with his own desires, with Henry’s thrusts. Nothing else mattered, and all control wicked away from Tristan. “Fucking Christ... do it harder... Goddamn it... Shit.”
And Henry obliged. At this angle, going so hard, pushing so deep into Tristan, his cockhead kept hittingthat spot.But with the thousand other sensations careening through him, Tristan couldn’t even follow the lines of fire that snaked through him. They mingled with the lightning and power and pressure. Everything flowed through Tristan to try to sate the beast, and it begged for more. It begged to do this in Henry’s hotel room, and in the shower, and in the airplane bathroom on their way back to Seattle, and in Henry’s kitchen, and on Tristan’s couch.
Henry’s fingers tightened again, and this time Tristandidnotice. Henry’s eyes had squeezed shut, his lips parted, sweat drenched his hair and plastered it to his forehead and the sides of his face. Each breath raised his shoulders visibly, and still he humped, pressing harder and harder and... Oh God. OhGod.
Tristan swallowed hard as his walls finally broke down. The currents of power and pressure shifted and eddied and swirled back toward his crotch. His balls pulled higher, his toes curled above him. “I’m—I’m gonna come—” He struggled against it, held on to that wave for a second, two, three... then his breath caught, pushing out in rough, ragged grunts. His cock vibrated with each spurt. One in his bush, then up by his navel, then his chest. It came and came, seven, eight spurts before it calmed.
Tristan slackened and let the bed support him fully. The bed and Henry’s hands behind his knees.
And Henry pulled out too. He peeled away the condom and tossed it in the trash, then lay next to Tristan and pumped. Fast and hard. Tristan breathed in the scent of him, the coconut and sweat and sex. He reached across and took over, running his fist the full length of Henry’s cock.
Soon he heard the telltale groaning, saw the tiny spasms. Henry’s cock pulsed out white heat. It landed in little pools on his stomach and his thighs and all across Tristan’s hand. Warm and pungent and sticky and... Henry. It was all Henry.
Eventually it stopped and Tristan let go. They lay there, pressed side to side, just breathing for a while. Tristan’s mind raced. This wasn’thim. At least not the normal him. This was a guy who didn’t care about showing off his scars, or lying around naked in a hotel room, covered in come. Goddamn it, it was nice. He draped an arm over Henry’s chest, relishing the sweat and the heaving movements of each breath and the tufty hair right there in the middle.
“That... was good.” Henry spoke between pants. “That was... amazing.”
“Yeah. Lived up to expectations.” Tristan laughed at himself. He didn’t know what else to do. “So congrats on the win. I couldn’t afford a trophy or anything like that, so I hope this was a good enough prize.”
Henry snorted. “Is this up every time I win?”
“Well, I don’t see why not. And when you lose, I canconsoleyou with sex.”
“So it’s like selling your body, but not quite.”
“I mean, if you want to start paying me, my landlord would appreciate it.” Tristan pulled up closer and nuzzled his head right into the crook of Henry’s neck. Coconut and sex. That was Henry... his Henry, with all the baggage stripped away.
