Page 89 of Down Bad

Yanking down his pants was the invite to the party.

He’s RSVPing.

I grip him under the thighs and lift him straight off the couch. His lips are locked right on mine as I carry him to the bedroom. Drop him back onto the bed. Crawl over him. Nightstand drawer. Pop open the lid. Squirt. Then bring my fingers down to his crack where they tease their way in so much easier than mere saliva did on a fancy rug in someone’s castle.

He’s already so ready for me, two fingers slide halfway in with no effort. I can’t help but crack a smirk at the sight of his dropped jaw and pretty little eyes flipping back.

“Is this okay?” he asks through a breath.

My fingers don’t stop. “Isn’t this what you wanted?”

“God yes,” he groans.

“Then what’s the problem?”

“N-No problem. None at all. Jesus, Lord …”

“Taking so many names in vain? And on a Sunday?” I click my tongue at him as my fingers twist deeper. “Have you no shame?”

“Mmm, none at all.”

I come close to his ear. “I wanna put all of me in you.”

“All of you?”

“If you want.”

When he slaps his hands onto my hips like a spank, my eyes go wide as he bares his teeth and says, “Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve done anything with anyone?”

That makes two of us. “But I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You can’t.” He grips me tighter. Pulls me against him firmer. “I’m unbreakable.”

There’s something in the way he says that. Like he means a lot more than what he’s saying.

I’m too horny to figure it out. “Been a while for me, too.”

“Then let’s do it already.”

I go for the nightstand again. Tear off the package. Roll it on. Another squirt of my trusty brand. He turns over onto his stomach while I take hold of his hips.

Then it isn’t fingers teasing between his cheeks.

And as I work my way in, I feel his whole body collapse under my grips, like a sigh expressed through muscle. I’m gentle with my thrusts. I’m not exactly Godzilla down there, but I’m sure not small by any means either.

And Wyatt is tight. I fucking love the way sliding inside of him feels, how his body lets me in and fights me at the same time. Just like a fucking glove.

He grunts and mutters something under his breath.

“Too much?” I ask him, thinking he’ll tell me to go slow.

“Harder,” he says instead.

This guy …

I keep my hold on him. Pump him deeper with every thrust. He keeps sighing into the pillow.

“Faster,” he groans.