Forrest dropped his head between his arms and moaned, the desire shooting from his hole straight to his balls. The world seemed smaller in that moment, just him and Rourke, or rather, Rourke’s delicious tongue working its magic.
Everything inside of Forrest felt like dynamite about to ignite. He wanted.Fuck. He wanted so badly it hurt. He would give Rourke anything in that moment to feel him inside. “Please. Please fuck me.”
“I thought you wanted your cock in my mouth. My tongue in your ass. Make up your mind, Forrest.” The teasing lilt of Rourke’s tone made Forrest shiver.
“Cock. In ass.”
Rourke laughed, low and delicious, and Forrest nearly melted. “Stay still. Don’t move.”
Forrest shifted, but Rourke’s hand landed on his back, right between his shoulder blades, and he froze. “Sorry.”
“Stay.” Rourke kissed a spot in the middle of his spine, and then Forrest heard footsteps. A drawer opened and closed and Rourke’s hot breath tickled the back of his neck. He dipped his fingers into the waistband of Forrest’s panties and tugged them down a lot more gently than the last pair. When they reached his ankles, Forrest stepped out of them.
Rourke touched his asscheek, a palm smoothing over his bubbly flesh, before wet fingers poked his hole. Forrest didn’t even hear him open the lube he’d obviously retrieved from the drawer. “Is this what you want, baby? My fingers in your ass?”
“I prefer your cock,” Forrest teased, but he gasped when two fingers pushed inside him. “Fuck.”
“Yeah, baby, that’s what we’re about to do.”
Kisses along Forrest’s spine made him shiver, as did the digits that pushed in and out of him. His heart raced, pulse thumping and cock throbbing. None of his paid encounters compared to this, and the clients didn’t have the appeal Rourke did.
“Please.” Forrest huffed out a breath, his fingernails digging into the expensive leather of the wingback. “I need you inside me, boss.”
Rourke dug his teeth into Forrest’s skin, and Forrest’s moans grew in volume. His fingers pushed inside of Forrest’s hole on more time before he pulled them out. Forrest heard the squeeze of the pump bottle this time, and his cock jumped in excitement when something thicker poked at his hole.
“Do you want me?”
“Yes. Fuck, yes.”
The shove inside wasn’t gentle, and Forrest didn’t want it to be. The burning stretch sent him into an ecstasy high, and he closed his eyes, clenching the chair’s arms tighter. The leather squeaked under his hold.
Rourke bottomed out in him, and they both groaned. Forrest’s forehead fell against the seat and he pressed a knee into the cushion, giving Rourke a better angle. His body was on fire, hot and flushed, and he needed Rourke to move. Rocking his hips back against the nice, thick cock inside him, Forrest threw a wicked grin over his shoulder.
“Fuck me, boss.”
Rourke grasped his hips, nails biting into his skin, before he began thrusting. The drag of his cock started as a slow tease of in and out that made Forrest’s mind spin and he let his impatience get the better of him. Using the leverage of his hold on the chair, he fucked himself back on Rourke’s cock, hard. They both groaned when Rourke bottomed out. It was all the encouragement Rourke needed because his pace quickened. His cock throbbed inside Forrest, and with each thrust, Forrest felt himself being driven into a high that he didn’t know if he would be able to come down from. Rourke’s cock was a perfect piece of meat created to drive him crazy.
Their panting filled the room, and between the sounds they both made and the feel of Rourke against him—in him—Forrest was on a high he couldn’t come down from. His pulse raced, nerves hypersensitive to every touch. He didn’t know how much longer he could take the pace and pleasure.
His vision swam, and the sweat on his palms made his hands slip on the leather. When Rourke drove forward into him, his chest landed against the back of the chair. That didn’t slow down Rourke’s pace, though. When Rourke pressed his chest to Forrest’s back, the scratch of his suit was the final nail in the coffin of Forrest’s control over his orgasm.
Forrest spat in his palm and grabbed his cock, jerking himself off roughly. It didn’t take him long. His balls drew tight and his cock throbbed, cum spilling from his slit and splashing the chair he was pressed again. He muttered “fuck” over and over again until his breathlessness made it impossible to utter a word.
Rourke wasn’t far behind him. Two more thrusts and his grip on Forrest’s hips tightened. Warmth filled Forrest’s insides, and Rourke’s moan filled the room. It was the most beautiful sound Forrest had heard and his cock jerked with a valiant attempt at hardening to full mast again already.
Forrest peeked over his shoulder and the sight sent a hot flush through him. He never knew the sight of Rourke still in a suit after fucking him would turn him on so much, but the rush of blood south said otherwise. He didn’t think he’d have enough energy left after the first time, but apparently he was wrong.
Forrest whimpered and wrapped a tight grip around the base of his cock.
Rourke’s eyebrows rose and he laughed, still out of breath. “Christ, Forrest, you have sex all day. How can you still get it up outside of clients?”
Forrest winked. “For you? It’s really easy. Wanna go again?”
Forrest got through all his clients without any issues. He was still flying high from the time he spent with Rourke and nothing could bring him down, at least, not until he realized it was Montague’s turn.
His stomach roiled with anxiety as he said goodbye to his second to last client and went to take a shower. He always showered between clients, but he usually made sure he was quick and thorough so he didn’t leave his next gentleman waiting. He took time to wash every inch of his skin with slow care. The longer he dragged the shower out, the heavier the dread sat in his stomach, though. It didn’t matter how long he stayed in there, Montague wasn’t going to disappear, and the time wasn’t going to magically become the next morning.
Forrest took a deep breath and dried himself off before grabbing some tight jeans and a shirt in a clingy material that made his nipples peak from the friction. He took a calming breath and plastered a smile on his face as he walked down the stairs to the waiting room. Sam frowned at him when he saw Forrest and tapped his watch. Forrest knew he was running fifteen minutes late, which was unusual for him, so he merely smiled apologetically before entering the bar room Montague would be in.
