"Do you want that?" Dylan asked, echoing Ashton's own thoughts, and oh — right then, with Dylan filling his senses; his cock still aching with the ghost of filling Dylan's hand?
DoI want this?
Yes, Ashton wanted to say.Oh,yes.His lips were already forming the shape of it, buried safely against Dylan's skin; mouthing at Dylan's skull down to the curve of his ear, and teasing his lips along the shell.
"Or would you rather be on your back, clutching your own legs to your chest for me like a pretty little doll as I sink into you. Begging me to show your ass how a man takes a big, thick, cock?"
How could you want that?part of his mind yelled, and —
How could you not?came the reply.
Ashton's hips rolled, his mind full of static, his body aching so intensely he could scream.
"How much of me do you think you could manage, Ashton?" Dylan murmured over Ashton's panting, heavy and harsh. "Howmany times do you think I could make you come? I bet I could make you last all night, you know. You wanna find out? You gonna let me try?"
Pleasepleaseplease…
But.
"I can't," Ashton choked out; telling himself to release Dylan, to go downstairs, to be anywhere but here. Yet he seemed unable to make his fingers move, a drowning man clinging to driftwood, his entire world caught in a storm. "I can't."
"You could," Dylan urged, that devilish hand still frozen on Ashton's zipper; daring him, damning him. "There's nothing stopping you butyou, Ashton. I promise. It feels good. Really fucking good. Like learning what sex is all over again. And I'd take such good care of you Ashton. I swear I would. Just gotta tell me how."
Ashton moaned, a wretched, choked-off little thing that was all the more embarrassing for its honesty; low and deep, dredged up from his toes and scraping him raw inside everywhere it touched.
With a sigh, Dylan dropped his hand from Ashton's pants, stepping —
"Wait!" Ashton hissed, hands fisting in Dylan's shirt, keeping him close, needing him close, fearing him getting too close, and yet? "I — I want… "
"Forget want," Dylan murmured, holding very, very still. "What do youneed, Ashton?"
Need?
I need to be far from here; away from your words, your body, your touch.
I need to be closer, as close as you've promised. To feel you move; around me, under me, above me, inside me.
I need a drink —
— from your lips.
Something strong —
— wrapped around me.
That old familiar burn —
—whydo you make me burn?
Need and want and worry and fear all chased each other round and round and round, nailing Ashton's feet to the floor and —
What do youneed, Ashton?
It wasn't like a jacket he could take on and off, was it? Maybe some guys could, but… If Ashton did this, if he let Dylan have his way, he feared there'd be no coming back from it.
Feared it, and needed it all the same.
"You," Ashton answered him, whispering so low he couldn't be sure it was actually a sound.
