Race slammed down onto him, grinding against him and meeting every thrust.
They rocked and groaned and roared. They slapped together, the chaise squeaking.
He didn’t even worry about whether it would hold. No, he knew it would. It was his work, dammit.
Moaning, Race braced on his chest and bounced, and Con’s knot engaged, making itself known in a huge way.
“Oh, fuck…feel that.” Race’s eyes were shining, alight. He licked his lips, undulating, dancing on Con’s lap.
And fuck it felt so good.
He was ready to be stuck hard together, which sounded far less fun than it actually was.
There was nothing like being caught inside his lover, having that tight ring of muscle milk his prick. And Race affected him like no one else ever had. Con had never been so fucking hard, so tightly engaged.
Not ever.
Race was vocalizing, the sounds winging out, filling the air, rough and wild and needy.
Leaning down, he bit at Race’s shoulder, encouraging him to fly higher. Every sensation seemed to make Race tighten down around him, and he was going to bust his nut.
Race reached between them, jacking himself good and hard.
“That’s it, baby. I’m so close. You’re so damn tight. Gonna…”
“Uhn.” That felt very much like an agreement.
He arched up, sinking so deep they might never come apart. And he used his hand to touch Race, too, stroking up and down.
At his touch, Race shot, roaring out his pleasure.
Connal watched, gritting his teeth and holding off as long as he could. He wanted to see every shiver, every grimace, every flush of Race’s skin.
Race’s body milked him, demanding his pleasure, demanding his seed.
So he gave it. Connal shot like a ton of bricks, his knot wedged tight as he filled Race up.
Race slumped down on him, covering him, heavy and solid.
“Mmm. Hey, lover.” He kissed Race on the top of his head. “Better.”
“Uh-huh…Sobetter.” Race sighed softly. “So.”
“Me too. That was what I needed to heal up the rest of the way. Your fine ass.”
“I—You are a stubborn bastard. I fucking adore you.”
“I am.” Connal rubbed Race’s back. “Wanna get back in the hot tub?”
“Fuck, yes.” Race nipped at him, laughing out loud. “Can you manage me? You knotted pretty well…”
“Never fear.” He carefully moved them to the edge of the chaise so he could sit up. “And up!” They made it to the hot tub in one piece, and they managed to slip in without killing themselves.
Con was fucking proud of them.
“Wow, Bear.” Race chuckled, snuggling against him with a happy sigh. “That was impressive.”
“Right. Though you really helped with balance holding onto the rim of the tub…” He was so fucking happy he could explode. Boom.
