Page 85 of Craving Sin

Abbott is stroking that long, pretty cock of his when I get back to him. I drip some oil onto his shaft, and he smiles in return.

“I’m really yours?” he asks.

“Always, pretty thing. You’re going to get sick of me.”

“No. I never will.”

I slick my fingers with the oil, working two, then three fingers into him, stretching him open for me.

“You’re so beautiful,” I tell him, running my left hand up and down his torso, the fingers on my right hand still stuffed inside of him. “The red hair…the freckles, this fucking body. Jesus, you have a great body.”

He smiles.

“That too.”

“What?”

I push my fingers into him, and he arches upward. “Your smile. You smiled at me in the hallway that first day. I was losing my shit because of what you made me feel, and you smiled and…I think it soothed me. I wanted more of it. So kind. I knew it then. I don’t know what someone as good as you is doing with me, but I’m selfish enough not to care. I’m going to keep you regardless.”

“You’re good too,” he says. “Keep me. Love me. Fuck me.”

I can’t hold back anymore either, so I pull my fingers free, lube up my cock with the oil, hold his eye contact, and push in slowly, so fucking slowly I know it’s killing us both.

“Oh God. Fuck. You’re so big. So good.”

“I’m yours,” I say. “I said you’re mine, but I’m yours too. Say it, pretty thing. I want to hear it.”

“You’re mine.”

“Again,” I order, pushing farther into him.

“You’re mine,” he says louder.

“Again.” I snap my hips forward, filling him completely.

“You’re mine!” he calls out. “You’re mine! I’m yours, but you’re mine too.”

I didn’t know I needed to hear him say it as much as I did. I thought it was just something Abbott liked, wanted, but I need to belong to him too. Need to feel wanted and possessed by this man who has turned my whole world upside down.

I grab his hips, pull back, and thrust forward again. We cry out together, over and over and over as I take him fast and hard. The table moves, and we go with it, possessing each other’s bodies, coming together in this way that he makes me need.

I lean over him, slam my mouth down, push my tongue into him, torso to torso, mouth to mouth, tongue-fucking as I own his ass.

He arches upward, and I can tell he’s close. I keep fucking into him, my balls so full and tight, and ready to unleash.

His cock is still slick from the oil, and I stroke him—fuck him and stroke him until he’s coming apart beneath me, cum spurting all over his flat stomach and muscular pecs like there’s a never-ending supply in his balls right now.

He’s still coming when it’s my turn, when colors dance in my vision and my dick twitches inside of him, balls emptying inside his body, fucking my cum deep into him, right where it belongs.

And when we’re both spent, I scoop some of his cum from his chest and rub it into mine. I lick it off my fingers, kiss him with it, and smear his load into our skin the way we do with mine.

Knowing exactly what I’m doing, Abbott says, “You’re mine too.”

“Yes.”

We kiss for a few minutes before I help him off the table. He walks awkwardly, body stiff, through the kitchen.

“Did I hurt you?” I ask.