‘Fuck me,’ Jules begs, demands,moansin his ear, has no leverage to roll his hips in this position but he can clench at will and he’s doing it in pulses, Lachlan is sogone.‘Fuck me, Bodyguard.’
‘Say my name.’
‘Fuck you.’
Lachlan smiles, pulls out and then pushesallthe way back inside until they’re conjoined.‘Brat.’He starts to make a slow, crude rhythm of this imperfect penetration, would be so much better without the condom but he’s not fucking him bare for anything.
‘That’s it, oh my God, oh… make me yours, please!’
‘Youaremine, Jules,’ Lachlan tells him, wishes that it sounded less like an apologetic threat, but he can’t help it.He’s fucking him, in and out, deeper each time, faster, no God could pull them apart, no legions of hell, nofathers.Nothing could stop this, and nothing ever will.‘Mine.’
‘Make me feel it then!’Jules cries, gripping tight.
Lachlan keeps the angle even though it burns his thighs to stay in this position, knows he’s nailing his prostate so good this way, doesn’t stop, does not let up an inch.He’s gonna make Jules come untouched,untouched, and it makes Lachlan feel like a fucking God.
‘Come for me, baby,’ he bids, watching Jules unravel, wants to burn the image into his memory.The sounds, the smell of his sweat, ohGod, he has to taste it, lifts Jules’ arm to bury his face there and lick it, revels in the squeak he gets from Jules, who grips Lachlan’s ass cheeks, fingers digging in cruelly.
‘You’re so gross,’ Jules complains, voice wrecked when he finally gets Lachlan’s mouth back on his.‘I love it.’
‘You gonna come for me?’Lachlan pants against his mouth, fucking him so hard it jolts his whole body.‘I wanna feel it.’
‘Put… put your hand on my throat.’
Lachlan’s eyes roll back, pleasure surging in his core but he bites down hard otherwise he’ll come before Jules does.He reaches up, adjusting his weight where he bears it on his elbows and lightly grips his throat.The noise Jules makes threatens Lachlan’s remaining control.‘That’s good?’
‘So good,’ Jules moans, seems dazed.‘Make me come now, Bodyguard.’
Lachlan drops his head, slave to the rhythm as his body pushes harder than ever before.Who knew love was a better tool to fuck with than hate?Faster, deeper, harder, this boy’s inner thighs will be bruised tomorrow, and that rose will have a garden.
Lachlan rubs his thumb over the protruding Apple of Jules’ throat, exposed when his head tips back into the pillows.Jules goesrigidwith tension that mimics possession as he comes, mouth falling open in a silent scream and just the sight of that is enough to push Lachlan all the way over the edge.
He comes so hard his ears pop and colours burst behind his eyes, vicious delights ravaging him all over again as he comes so fucking hard it’s like he’s bleeding all that he is into Jules, who he would die to protect.
So.
Much.
More.
And then it ebbs, and they kiss.
They kiss for hours.Sticky, warm, hidden.
Lachlan strokes Jules’ hair.
He’s never felt anything like this.
Jules is wrapped around Lachlan like he might leave otherwise.
He’ll have to soon, but not yet.
Notyet.
‘Still love me tomorrow?’Jules asks, eyes dipping, speech a little slurred.
Lachlan pretends to consider it.‘Have to wait and see.’
Jules pouts.‘See what?’
