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He’s not wrong about that. “You’re really fucking with me tonight,” I say against him, mouth melting into one kiss after another, broken only by murmured words.
“I’ve been waiting for you,” Olivier sighs.
I suck his bottom lip gently between mine. “My hair wasn’t cooperating.”
“You look so fucking hot.”
“Jesus, Olivier…”
“Hurry, we don’t have time.”
Dizzy, I drag my mouth away from his and feel around for the lube. Like my first time, it’s probably better not to overthink this. I don’t see how he could possibly convey to me that he wants this any more than he already has, and dicking around about it is just wasting time. Time I could be inside him.
I’ve gotten used to bottoming, there’s something about it that suits a certain part of my personality, but the asshole in me has wanted to top him from day one, if I’m being honest.
I’m unbelievably hard, and as I sit back to lube myself up, I tremble with how turned on I am by my own touch. With him lying there watching me, my arousal climbs to the next level.
His nails scrape my thighs while we stare at each other. It’s one moment I don’t mind dragging out a little. He’s splitting his time equally between watching my hand on my cock and staring up at my face, but I can’t stop looking at his eyes. The need in them. The raw need for me. I’m dizzy because I’m high off him. Also, because my cock is throbbing with close to every ounce of blood in my body.
“Fuck me,” he mouths. “Fuck me…”
“Come here,” I murmur, hands on his biceps and pulling him up. He follows my lead, wrapping his arms around my head and straddling my lap.
Reaching around him, I slide one finger in, and he makes an annoyed sound. “We don’t have time for this…”
On that note, I slide a second in to stretch his hole wider. He grunts, but his head still shakes. “I don’t need that. I need you. Just you.”
“I don’t want to hurt you,” I tell him again.
“I’ll survive. Fuck me, Drew. Stop messing around and just fuck me.”
I take his point about not having time, but I note my objection once again for the record. This could theoretically wait until we get back to his place, but when he looks me in the eyes, I get the message.
He doesn’t give a shit if it hurts. He might even want it to. He needs it.
It makes me wonder what this party is taking out of him, and whether having me can be a viable replacement for what he feels like he’s lost.
Sliding my fingers out, I take hold of my cock and notch the head at the tight pucker in his ass. And then I kiss him, with one hand on his neck and one on his hip. And just like he does when he sucks my dick—he goes all in without my having to move a muscle. His ass takes me whole in one deep swallow, and we both fucking lose it.
His loud, broken cry bounces off the walls, and my sudden “Oh fuck!” nearly drowns him out.
His hands grip the sides of my head, and his mouth moves in fast and hard on mine, like he can process the overwhelm by overwhelming me. I’m trembling with the repressed urge to start fucking into him, but I wait for him to adjust.
The kiss is wild, feral, as filthy as sin itself. He bounces on my lap, maybe an inch—if that—and you’d think he just handed me a permission slip. I roll my hips upward, thrusting deeper, and after three of those, he’s breathless, nails digging into my shoulder blades like he can transfer the pain to me.
Needing more control, I get him on his back, his knees up by his ears, devouring his neck and fucking him like I’m interviewing for the most important job of my life. I’m all focus and being so painstakingly careful not to hurt him, I’m dripping sweat. He sips it from my cheeks like it’s wine.
Everything—and I mean every fucking thing shifts for me behind these black gauzy curtains.
What was once want becomes caring. What I used to know for certain was craving becomes a desire so deep, it vibrates my bones. What I used to hate, I’m falling for, one curl, one smirk, one jab, one unreasonable request at a time. I fucking called him baby.
And I wasn’t even being ironic.
Rhythmically, I squeeze his neck as I work my cock into him with the smoothest glides I can manage. His eyes roll back, and then shut as he whispers, “More.”
I roughen up my thrusts. I put more pressure on his throat. I make sure my abs roll against his dick every time I move inside him. For a minute I think I might be so worried about hitting all his pleasure points that I won’t be able to come, and then he makes this dead sexy sound, and the switch flips.
My balls thrum and my spine tingles, my groin clenches, and I’m instantly on the edge. “I’m coming,” I pant, clutching his throat. “I’m fucking coming.”
