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“I can take it.” Matthew prayed for restraint, already slick with sweat and unable to look away from Oliver’s hard, bobbing shaft, or the sight of his own cock slowly disappearing inside his lover.
Oliver was his.
“As long as you promise not to stop, I’ll agree to anything. Fuck, I never thought a thing could feel too good.”
“So you’re a convert?” Oliver asked with a gusty laugh, taking more of him.
“I’ll let you know if I survive the next few seconds. I think we’re almost… Can you take more?”
They both moaned loudly in relief with that final inch, their bodies joined completely.
A feeling of rightness and completion swept over Matthew. He felt connected. He wanted to be.
Mine.
“Don’t move yet.”
He had to memorize this feeling. Remember every detail of Oliver above him, those curls a wild halo around his exquisite face. There were teeth marks on his red lips and his eyelashes were damp with unshed tears.
“Am I hurting you?” Matthew asked roughly. “Do you need more time?”
Oliver shook his head, his hips slowly rolling in place, the firm cheeks of his ass brushing the tops of Matthew’s thighs deliciously. “No, but I need to move. If you want me to stop, you’ll have to make me.”
Matthew wasn’t sure he could stop now if the house were on fire, not with Oliver massaging his cock in one hell of an erotic lap dance. “Where did you learn to do that?”
“Trade secret.”
“Do it again,” Matthew growled.
They fell into the perfect rhythm, their mad rush slowed by the tight fit and a need to savor.
Matthew couldn’t stop touching him. Tracing the head of his cock, sliding his hands up his strong thighs, palming his ass. So different from anything he’d known before. So right.
Everything about Oliver felt right. He wanted to know everything about him. To learn his body by feel. By scent. He wanted to taste the cock that was flushed and full between them.
He wanted everything.
“I wore those shorts for you,” Oliver admitted, startling Matthew into meeting his gaze.
“Not that first time,” he added quickly, his movements slowing with the confession. “That time I’d run out of clean laundry and had to borrow a pair of my cousin’s. My much younger cousin’s. But when you came in and I saw your reaction to how high they rode up on my—” He broke off, rocking against him with more force. “Matthew.”
“You were torturing me on purpose?”
You loved it.
“I didn’t think it would take you that long for you to come over. That if you didn’t, it meant you weren’t interested.” He groaned in frustration. “God, you’ve been driving me crazy for days. You’re still driving me crazy. I think it’s your turn.”
Matthew stiffened beneath him. “My turn for what?”
“To ride me like you want to. I need it, Matthew.”
Not waiting for another invitation, he had him on his back with his legs slung over Matthew’s shoulders before he could do more than gasp. “Is this okay? I’ve never been to a dance, remember? I don’t want to get the steps wrong.”
Oliver nodded weakly, arching his back and shouting his approval as Matthew filled him with one forceful thrust.
He got to his knees, hands on the back of Oliver’s thighs so he had the perfect view of his ass as he took him. “I was obsessed with this. With you, and you knew it. You’ve been teasing me for days. All those. Damn. Lunges.”
“Yes! Matthew.”
He couldn’t hold back. Something dark and possessive had taken over at the feel of Oliver beneath him. So deep. So fucking perfect.
He slid his hand down to wrap a fist around the erection he couldn’t take his eyes off of. Oliver reacted to Matthew’s touch with a keening sound that nearly made him pop. It was electric and all-consuming and so much better than his dreams.
This is everything.
“Fuck, are you sure this is your first time?” Oliver asked, groaning.
“You know it is. And as soon as we’re done, I’m going to want you a second time. Then a third. I want to wake up inside you in the morning and have you again. Which means we need to renegotiate this date. It won’t be over until we both agree it is.”
“Oh God,” Oliver cried, his hands clawing at the coverlet. “Harder.”
“Are you going to give me what I want?” Matthew pressed, his thrusts so deep and jarring they shook the bed. “Tell me our date won’t be over tomorrow.”
“It won’t,” he gasped. “I swear. I’m so close, Matthew. Please.”
They came together, Oliver crying out his name and Matthew trembling with the force of his own climax. He was buried in his lover, reveling in the feeling of Oliver’s come drenching his fingers, and knowing that nothing that came before could have possibly prepared him for this.
He lowered Oliver’s legs reluctantly, lowering his head to kiss him breathless.
