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He’s got goosebumps, and when he raises his arms, and I lift the cashmere and the silk-blend t-shirt beneath it over his head, I find his nipples pebble-hard.
Instead of tossing the sweater to the floor like I did with my shirt, I lay it on the bench at the foot of the bed before turning back to him and running my hands through his hair.
His head tilts back, lips parting as my fingers snag momentarily in his dark, tousled curls. He’s so goddamn beautiful. So perfectly suited to his life, this city. And maybe that’s why I’ve always hated him so much—because he fits so effortlessly, and I’ve nearly killed myself trying.
I kiss him, my fear of his mouth touching mine effectively eradicated. His lips are soft and plush like his ass, but instead of muscle providing the firmness behind them, it’s his will. His want. His tongue rushes to meet mine, and I’m quickly overtaken again.
His hands grasp at my face, and he adjusts his mouth to consume me as deeply and thoroughly as possible. He’s got me backed up to the bed in no time, and then I’m collapsing onto it, and he’s crawling over me, refusing to be parted from my mouth for more than half a breath.
I fumble with my fly, desperate to relieve the intense pressure on my dick, and he does the same with his own. He works his voracious mouth down my neck, murmuring things like, “Don’t worry, I have plenty of lube. I’ll wear a condom. Fuck, I need to fucking fuck you.”
“Are you negative for everything?” I manage to ask.
“Everything,” he says, sitting back to shove his pants down past his hips. His long cock springs out, hard as a pole, pointing straight to the ceiling.
In a move I’d call very smooth, he hovers on his arms and works his jeans off his legs in a maneuver reminiscent of a mountain climber. It’s sexy as hell. Well-practiced. I’m guessing he’s had a lot more sex in the last few years than I’ve had. I shove my pants off in a more conventional way while he waits for me to be naked beneath him before coming back for another feeding from my mouth.
I touch every part of him I can get to. Starting with his arms, then his shoulders, his ribcage and waist, his flexing ass, the backs of his thighs. Every inch of him is firm and smooth, hairless except for his forearms and thighs. I bring our hips together, wanting his cock against mine. Needing the relief only friction can provide.
Fuck, it feels good. I could come like this too, especially considering the way I’m being tongue fucked at the same time. It’s a lot—and his greedy kiss is the one thing intense enough to overwhelm all the storms in my mind. The clouds clear, and there’s just him and the way he’s digging into me like I’ve been cooked in lemon butter.
“I need inside you, Drew. Let me put my cock inside you.”
“I already said you could.”
“Condom?”
“No, fuck it. Give me everything. Show me all your tricks.”
A soft huff and a bite of my jaw is what I get for my weak attempt at cleverness.
For his first trick, he scoots low between my thighs and takes my cock to the back of his throat. Up until we’d kissed, I thought it might be the only thing he could do particularly well, but he’s proven he’s got prowess, and I’m here for it. I choke on a sudden groan when he swallows me deeper. How the fuck does he do that?
Maybe he’s read me too well. Maybe I’m meant to just lie here, because I don’t think I’m half as good in bed as he is.
He licks and wets me with his mouth, sliding up and down my cock with speed and power until I’m so close, I almost tell him I’m gonna come, but before the words have a chance to form on my lips, he pulls off with a resounding pop and reaches for his nightstand. He pats my hip once he’s holding the tube of lube. “Turn over. I need to be able to see what I’m doing.”
I gulp.
I don’t know which visual I hate more. Me ass up on my hands and knees, or me with my legs in the air.
Don’t think about it, I remind myself firmly. Just do what he tells you.
I flip onto my stomach, trying to see if anything comes naturally to me after that.
It does not.
The position I wind up in is on my knees, but I fold my elbows onto the bed and put my face in my hands. My ass is available, but at least I’m not arching my back like a chick in a porn getting railed from behind. Also, I feel the need to fold into myself. Allow myself to disassociate from the whole situation as needed.
I hiss at how cold the lube is when he squirts it directly into my crack. I can safely say I’ve never felt this exposed. Humiliated, even. It’s basically the physical manifestation of the last several years of trying and failing at everything. I’ve felt like this city’s had me bent over for a while now.
But all he has to say about me in this position is, “This is beyond hot. I’m so fucking hard, Drew. Shit. I’m trying not to come before I’m inside you, but fuck.”
“Do you have any idea what you’re doing?” I ask.
“You tell me.” His hand runs up and down my crack, and then one fingertip presses against my uncooperative hole.
“Your turn to relax, Jack.”
