Page 21 of Nothing Special X: The Last Stand

A low, vibrating rumble started in God’s chest.

"You're not acting like you're trying to sleep," he growled.

Day hummed, dragging one hand up God’s chest before threading his fingers into his hair—which was becoming a problem.

He wanted to cut the shit.

But months ago, Furi had made the mistake of betting God he couldn’t grow his hair longer than his, and Day had taken it personally.

The bet pool had somehow climbed to eight hundred and ninety-three dollars so far.

Now he was stuck with thick, gold-brown hair that hung well past his shoulder blades because his husband was incapable of accepting defeat in any form.

“It’s too much now.”

Hell, God didn’t even like having long hair.

Day opened one eye. “You better not cut it. I don’t wanna have to hurt you.”

Day tightened his hand in his hair, and God kissed him before the argument could continue.

It was slow at first, lazy and comfortable, but it never stayed that way long between them—even after all these years.

Day canted his hips, grinding against God’s leg. His own cock rose to full attention, straining against the fabric of his underwear.

With a quick, commanding movement, he gripped Day around his waist and pulled him all the way on top of him.

Day pressed heavily on his chest, their breathing already syncing into a jagged rhythm.

They didn't speak. The silence of the room filled with their guttural groans and sharp hisses of breath.

God slid his hands down and gripped their cocks, stroking them in a punishing rhythm. The friction was intense, as the heat rose.

Day groped toward the nightstand, finding the bottle of lube they’d left there from last night, and squeezed a generous amount along their shafts.

God groaned as he got back to work.

Day leaned forward and bit God’s shoulder, moaning as he began to thrust into his palm.

"Damn, you're always a greedy bastard in the morning," God grunted.

“Shut up and fuck me,” Day hissed through clenched teeth, quickening his pace, and proving his point.

God responded by tightening his fist, squeezing their shafts with a strength that bordered on pain, pushing them to the edge.

"Cash, goddamnit," Day panted. "Gonna make me fuckin’ shoot in three minutes."

God didn't let up as he rubbed his calloused thumb over the sensitive heads of their dicks. He pumped them several times with deliberate pressure that made his own toes curl and his back arch.

Day licked and sucked God’s throat. The sensation of Day’s mouth on his skin, his moans, and curses were the breaking points, and he knew he was done.

As Day grew louder, God reached down, and pushed his middle finger deep inside Day’s hole, which was still slick and open from last night.

His husband released a strangled shout as his cum shot in hot, thick bursts between their abs.

God milked him, keeping his finger inside, drawing out his lover’s pleasure. Day reached between their legs, and gripped God’s balls, squeezing them hard in the way he craved.

God grunted, curling forward from the delicious spike of pain. The combination of the squeeze and the friction sent his own orgasm tearing through him with satisfying violence.