“Don’t,” I said, stopping him from whatever placation he was going to try to feed me. “I just… I’ve got a lot on my mind is all.”
“Anythin’ I can do to help?” He stepped closer, his hand already on my waist. “To take your mind off things?”
My skin tingled where he touched me and I could already feel my cock thickening.
“Yeah,” I whispered, already leaning into his touch. “I think you can.”
His other hand found the back of my neck, fingers threading through my hair as he pulled me closer. Our mouths crashed together, hungry and desperate, all the tension from dinner and thoughts of our fragile boundaries dissolving in an instant.
I pressed him back against the refrigerator, my hands roaming over the hard planes of his chest, feeling the heat of his skin under my palms. He groaned into my mouth, his hips grinding against mine, and I could feel how hard he was through the thin fabric of his pajama pants.
“Bedroom,” I gasped against his lips.
“No,” he growled, spinning us around so I was the one pinned against the cool metal door. “Right here. I want you right fuckin’ here.”
His mouth moved to my neck, teeth scraping against my pulse point as his hands worked at the waistband of my sleep pants. I bit back a moan, acutely aware that we were in the kitchen, that anyone could see through the windows, but I didn’t care. I needed him too much to care about anything else.
“Cash,” I breathed, my head falling back as he sucked a mark into the sensitive skin below my ear.
“I’ve been thinkin’ about you all day,” he murmured, his voice rough with want. “About how you looked this morning, how you felt around my cock. Couldn’t get it out of my head.”
His words sent fire shooting straight to my groin. I fumbled with the drawstring of his pants, desperate to get my hands onhim. When I finally freed his cock, he hissed through his teeth, his hips jerking forward into my grip.
“Fuck, Mike,” he groaned, bracing one hand against the refrigerator beside my head. “I love the way you touch me…”
I stroked him slowly, savoring the weight and heat of him in my palm. His eyes were dark with lust, fixed on mine like he was trying to memorize every detail of this moment. There was something almost reverent in the way he looked at me, like I was a piece of art to be savored.
“Turn around,” he said, his voice commanding but gentle.
I obeyed without hesitation, pressing my palms against the cool surface of the refrigerator. I heard him spit into his palm, felt his slick fingers probing at my entrance. I was still loose from this morning, still wanting, and he slipped inside easily.
“Damn,” he murmured appreciatively, working his fingers deeper. “You’re always so ready.”
I pushed back against his hand, seeking more friction, more pressure. He added a second finger, then a third, stretching me with practiced efficiency. When I was writhing against the refrigerator, desperate for more, he finally withdrew his fingers and positioned himself behind me.
The first press of his cock against my entrance made me whimper. He pushed in slowly, letting me adjust to the stretch, his breath hot against my shoulder blade.
“God, you feel incredible,” he groaned once he was fully seated inside me. “I could fuck this hole forever.”
He started to move then, slow and deep, his hands gripping my hips as he set a rhythm that had me seeing stars. Each thrust hit that spot inside me that made my knees go weak, and I had to brace myself harder against the refrigerator to keep from collapsing.
“Harder,” I gasped, pushing back to meet his thrusts. “Please, Cash, I need?—”
He didn’t let me finish, slamming into me with a force that knocked the breath from my lungs. The sound of his heavy balls slapping against my ass filled the kitchen, obscene and perfect in this quiet house of God.
“This what you need?” he growled, one hand reaching around to wrap around my neglected cock. “This what’s been keepin’ you awake?”
“Yes,” I cried out, probably too loud but past caring. “Yes,fuck, just like that.”
He stroked me in time with his thrusts, rough and fast, pushing me toward the edge with ruthless efficiency. I could feel my orgasm building, coiling tight in my belly, and I knew I wasn’t going to last much longer.
“Cum for me,” Cash commanded, his teeth sinking into my shoulder. “Want to feel you cum while I’m inside you.”
It was all the permission I needed. I came with a strangled cry, spilling over his hand and onto the kitchen floor as my body clenched around him. He followed seconds later, burying himself deep as he filled me with his release, his own cry muffled against my neck.
We stayed like that for a long moment, both of us panting, his body draped over mine as we came down from the high. Eventually he pulled out, and I turned in his arms, both of us still catching our breath.
“Feel better?” he asked, a small smile playing at his lips.
