“Fuck this. Fuck me.”
“Nice and slow, baby,” he murmurs as he pushes inside of me. My rim expands around his length, inch by excruciating inch, until he’s settled inside of me. “Perfect. So fucking perfect.”
He meets my gaze, and I know he’s talking about more than sex. He’s talking about me. It does things to my heart, to my body.
I lean up and kiss him, my tongue plunging into his mouth. He sucks on it, bites it. Almost makes me bleed.
And then makes it all better by dragging his cock out of my hole and pressing it right back in.
It’s a disaster. Terrible.
It’s the most romantic shit I’ve ever experienced.
“That’s it, Myles. That’s fucking it,” he whispers, his face just above mine, his eyes holding my gaze. “So good. Always so good.”
My hands clasp onto his back, fingers digging into his shoulders. But he doesn’t rush it. Just drags himself in and out of me until my eyes start to water, my orgasm just on the precipice, but I’m unable to come.
He’s keeping me here, making me feel it. Feel him.
“What are you doing to me?” I ask, my voice cracking slightly.
I’m going to make love to you.
“Told you.” He shifts his dick all the way into me and holds himself there.
“Please.” It’s all I can say. I don’t want him to stop. I want him to end this.
I don’t know anything anymore.
Just that he keeps going, slow and steady, so slow and steady that my cock eventually can’t take it anymore and erupts onto my stomach, untouched. He marvels at it and leans down to kiss me. My lips, cheeks, anything he can reach, then his tongue flicks out and languidly licks its way up my neck.
“So horny for it.”
“Fuck off. You are too.”
“Oh, I’m ravenous.”
But he doesn’t act like it. He acts like he has all the time in the world. Kissing me, slowly rocking into my body. It goes on for so long that I end up hard again, and when I grow close to another orgasm, he’s finally right there with me.
“Yeah, fuck yeah. So fucking good,” he moans as he thrusts into me unevenly, his dick pulsing. His veins pop from his flesh, his face almost pained as he empties himself inside of me. And when he finally pulls from my well-used hole, he doesn’t slip down and stare at his release emptying from me.
He just holds on to me, his body covering mine, his lips on my skin.
“I’m so glad I’m with you right now,” he whispers as I hold him tightly.
It’s probably too early to admit, too weak and vulnerable, but I do it anyway.
“I am too.”
Chapter Twelve
“Fuck, this shirt makes me look like a dweeb,” I murmur, turning to face Paulie.
He makes a face at me. “What’s a dweeb, dude? Is that like a nerd? If so, you kinda do. Maybe unbutton that top button. You look way too tight and buttoned up.”
“Fuck you. I do not.”
“You just said you did.”
