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“I’m glad we’re both on the same page now,” he said, out of breath from the struggle and his insistent arousal. “I’m already fighting to keep your attention as it is. I don’t want to start worrying about the guys at the gym, too.”
Oliver stilled beneath him. “You always have my attention, Matthew.”
“Yeah? Then show me.”
As soon as their lips touched, they groaned, kissing as if they hadn’t seen each other in months. As if Oliver hadn’t woken Matthew up before dawn with a slow, mind-altering blowjob that had left him trembling.
They were both shaking with need as they pushed each other’s pajama bottoms and boxers down, hands gripping, fingers curling, hips rocking in greedy desperation.
It never went away. This hunger for Oliver never left him. It was an itch under his skin that got worse when they weren’t together. It should worry him, how strong it was. How possessive it could make him, a jealous and needy git.
“Please, Matty,” Oliver begged against his jaw. “I want it.”
He knew. He lifted himself onto his knees and flipped Oliver easily onto his stomach, eyes on that glorious ass.
His dancer’s body, lean and flexible and all Matthew’s, twisted beneath him in anticipation for what was coming.
He dragged his ass up until Oliver was on his knees with his face buried in the sheets. “You’re so beautiful, Legs.” He caressed his ass, his hips, traced his ribs with his fingertips, teasing him. “I want to kiss every inch of you. Touch you for hours. But you want something rougher than that, don’t you? Something like this?”
His palm landed with a loud smack on one cheek and Oliver groaned loudly. “Yes, Matthew.”
He watched the glorious light brown skin flush as he spanked him. Not too hard, just enough for him to enjoy Oliver’s satisfying reactions. He’d been asking for more of this lately, curious about the things Matthew had done at “that kinky club.” He had no problem indulging him, and his responses aroused the hell out of him, but he didn’t want to go too far down that road.
What he had with Oliver was so much more than handcuffs and a few laughs. What they did together was too intimate and potent on its own. No accessory or sexual gameplaying could ever be as erotic as Oliver’s face when he came.
Matthew soothed the stinging skin with a light caress and spread Oliver’s cheeks. “You look good enough to eat, Legs,” he growled, lowering his head and licking the delicate skin he’d revealed.
Oliver’s hips tilted, his thighs spreading willingly as Matthew took what he wanted. He lost track of time as he licked and bit and tongued the sensitive ring of clenching muscles until he had his lover begging in two languages.
That was what he lived for. Proof that Oliver was as lost as he was. As desperate.
“Matthew, please.”
He reached for the lube and coated his bare cock, impatient to feel that tight fit closing around him. Owning him. Claiming him.
Oliver pushed up unto his elbows, watching over his shoulder with wide eyes as Matthew aligned their bodies and finally worked himself inside.
“Yes,” he groaned, pushing back until Matthew was all the way in. “That’s it, Matty. So deep. God, I love this. Love you.”
Love you.
Matthew slid his fingers into Oliver’s hair, his other hand clenched on his hip as he started to move. Deep thrusts that had them both moaning. “Love being inside you like this,” he muttered as he watched his cock stretching Oliver. “Nothing between us. I’ll never get over how good this feels. Never get enough.”
“Faster.” Oliver begged, his hand gripping his own cock now. “I need you. Need to come.”
“Fuck, Legs.” Matthew tightened his grip on his curls and gave him what he wanted. Fast. Hard. He could feel the jarring force of his strokes, hear the loud slap of skin against skin but he still wanted more. Wanted to mark him. Remind him who he belonged to.
“Give it to me. Come for me. Let me feel what I fucking live for.”
He heard Oliver’s choked cry joining his as they came together. Fireworks exploded along his nerve endings and his vision blurred as he shouted Oliver’s name. Matthew followed him down to the bed when he collapsed, grinding against his quivering body until he was empty. Until Oliver was whimpering beneath him.
“Legs?” He hissed as he lifted himself up and pulled out, seeing the handprints on his ass and small bruises on his hip. “Oliver, did I hurt you?”
He was face down on the bed, moaning with every breath until he heard Matthew’s concern.
“Wonderful,” Oliver murmured, lifting a boneless arm and reaching out to caress whatever skin he could touch. “I’m wonderful. You’re wonderful. It’s wonderful.”
Matthew dropped heavily beside him with a groan of relief. “Hell.”
Oliver curled around him, nuzzling his neck weakly. “What’s wrong?”
