Page 87 of Back Outside Edge

When that smile grows wider, I hook a finger in my boxer briefs, but he stops me, kneeling up on the bed, blankets pooling around his own perfectly formed naked chest. Injury hasn’t softened him, not my Evan. If anything, his muscles are harder than they used to be. He spends a ridiculous amount of time in the gym, strengthening his body. Growing muscles that he'd be avoiding if he were still jumping.

His own finger slides into my waistband, and he pulls me closer, until I’m inches away, our mouths almost touching again. “Let me.”

“Ok.” With anyone else, I’d be uncomfortable. Too eager, too willing. Too desperate for anything he is willing to hand out. With Evan? Nothing but loved. Accepted. Perfect.

His hands slide down my hips slowly, taking my underwear with them, bearing my body. He pushes them down my thighs, then over my knees, until they fall the rest of the way to the ground on their own. His hands wrap around my hips as he urges me even closer, until my legs are pressed into the mattress, body angled toward him.

One hand glides around my waist, all sensuous grace, cupping my ass. He angles his head up, and I answer his unspoken command. Our mouths meet, and he sighs into me, as happy as I am to be here.

I’m no less hard, but the brief reprieve has given me control again, so I use it to kiss him back, giving as well as taking. My own hands track down his chest, one wrapping around his waist while the other takes hold of his cock firmly, tugging it a couple times. I won’t do much more without lube, which I'm sure he's hidden around here somewhere. He's too sensitive. It’s still enough to make Evan smile into my mouth, melting into me as much as I am him.

Then he’s taking control again, hands on my shoulders, pushing me down, off the edge of the mattress. “How about this?” His voice is rough, just a bit desperate. Exactly how I feel.

“Yes. Please.” I didn’t know I needed it, but I’m suddenly desperate to taste him, to take him into my mouth and make him as blissfully happy as he always makes me. I sink the rest of the way to my knees, and he adjusts his position until he’s sitting in front of me, legs to either side, bobbing a few tantalizing inches away from my mouth.

I wait, not taking him in yet, letting him adjust himself. It’s a combination of caution and handing him control. Giving him time to get comfortable with a messed up hip and knee has the fortunate side effect of making me even hotter. I’ve learned that I love to wait for him. That nothing is better than the sound of him giving me the go ahead.

He waits longer than he needs to, and my belly clenches, my own cock jerking when I realize it. “Hands behind your back,” he murmurs, and I hasten to comply, all but panting with the desperate need to take him in my mouth. To let him fuck my mouth, the way I love.

Another agonizing wait as he regards me, his eyes hot, that little smile never leaving his lips. “Do you want this?”

“Yes!” I’ve never been more sure about anything. Every time he asks, that combination of ensuring consent and forcing me to wait even longer does ridiculous things to my insides. It’s foreplay of the most maddening kind.

His fingers touch my chin, then my cheek, before he leans forward, wincing a bit, but continues until our lips brush again. I give him the kiss, and his lips are so soft against mine, while his hand cups the back of my head, fingers pulling in my hair. The contrast of his soft mouth and firm hand has me squirming again, and his light chuckle into my mouth is all the reward I could ever want. “Ok, then,” he says, lifting his head, pressing me down with the hand on my head.

I go willingly. Greedily, even. Desperately. Opening my mouth wide to take him in, barely giving myself a moment to adjust. Then I’m pushing further, forcing him to the back of my throat. We both groan, and I pull back up, until only his tip is in my mouth, sucking and licking it with everything I have, reveling in the salty tang of his flavor, the heat radiating off him warming my mouth from the inside.

He gives me a couple minutes to adjust, to play, to enjoy, before his hand tightens on my hair, and he pushes me back down, thrusting up at the same time. He goes slowly enough that I’m ready, but too quickly for me to manage any finesse, as he shoves himself down my throat.

There’s a moment when the gag reflex sets in, and my eyes tear up. I force myself through it, and then he’s lodged balls deep in my mouth, and I roll my eyes up to meet his, telling him how much I’m loving this without words.

His smile tells me he understands, and he pulls my head back off, lifting me partially off his cock, before slamming me back down again. It’s rougher this time, more abrupt. Perfect. As always, exactly what I didn’t know I needed, but was desperate for.

In this position, he can’t really fuck my mouth without hurting himself, so he directs my head instead. I go willingly, letting him use me however he wants to. We both revel in the slap of our bodies hitting every time he bottoms out on my lips, in the harsh tugs that pull me back up.

Too soon, though, he’s pulling my head all the way off him, gasping for breath. “No.” I struggle, wanting him back in my mouth, but his hands are firm in my hair.

“Can’t,” he manages, breathing as hard as I am. “I’ll come.”

“I want you to come.” I’m not fighting his grip, not really, but I am pulling against it, yanking at my own hair as I try to lower myself back onto him.

“I know, baby.” He pulls me back further, until my neck is stretched back, away from him, and I look straight into his eyes. “But you said you wanted me inside you.”

Oh, right. I did say that. In the moment, though, I don’t think that’s what I want anymore. “You are inside me, if you’re in my mouth,” I point out, trying to be reasonable, to out-logic him.

He rewards me with a grin. “Pretty sure that’s not what you meant.”

“Please?” I give him my best puppy-dog eyes, but it only makes him laugh. He knows me too well.

“Next time.” He lets go of my hair, sitting back with a tiny sigh. His hip is hurting him. I can tell by the lines around his mouth. We did too much sight-seeing today. When I’d told him I wanted him pounding into me, I’d meant it. But now I can see it’s not what’s best for him, and it doesn’t seem as appealing. I refuse to hurt Evan.

“Can I ride you, then?” I’d love to finish sucking him off, even after the time I’ve had to come back to my senses, but he’ll be stubborn about it.

His return smile almost drowns out the pain lines. He nods toward the bedside table next to me. “Lube and condoms are in there.”

I take a few minutes to prep, and he watches, lying back on the bed, that smile still playing over his lips. He likes to watch almost as much as he likes to do it himself, but I didn’t give him an option this time. He’s already done too much today. So, I put on a show, letting myself revel in the burn with each new finger, making sure he can see my cock jump every time I pass over my prostate.

When I’m nearly ready, and I’ve sheathed and slicked him up as well, I don’t take my time. I want the burn, to feel every inch of him stretching me, fighting with my body until my body gives in. The pain is sharp, immediate, and takes my breath away, but Evan knows me well enough by now to let me have it without argument.