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“Please.”
The lubed condom was lukewarm and Ambrose hissed automatically. Barrett didn’t stop but he did lock eyes with Ambrose. He circled Ambrose’s hole with one finger, almost a suggestion of a touch without any pressure. He remembered to breathe. He remembered how to melt into the mattress and let someone touch him so intimately. Ambrose remembered he was home. He remembered he was safe with Barrett. So he closed his eyes and focused on that pain-pleasure of being entered.
Barrett’s touch was delicate but his words less so. “Fuck.” Ambrose cracked an eye open and saw the open-mouthed desire painted across Barrett’s face. He was watching Ambrose’s body accept his finger, that intimate act making his heavy brows draw down, his lip be pulled between his teeth. It was a strangely coquettish expression on such a strongly featured face and if Ambrose didn’t have a finger in his ass, he would have teased his lover.
“That okay?” Barrett was panting and those shaky breaths felt like his own.
“So good.” And it was. Barrett’s other hand began playing about his chest again and Ambrose grabbed it, planted it over his right pec. “You can pinch them, I like it.”
“Goddamnit. You’re gonna ruin me.”
But Barrett’s words were at opposites with his touch because everything he did to Ambrose was gentle. Even the little pinch he gave Ambrose’s nipple was more teasing than testing. That finger slipped in deeper as Ambrose relaxed and soon Barrett was second knuckle deep in him and Ambrose was writhing. He pulled up his other leg and wrapped it around Barrett’s waist. “Another. Fuck. Please.”
Barrett pulled all the way out, leaving Ambrose feeling empty, only to push back in with two fingers. And the deeper he went, the more Barrett bent over him, the more kisses were planted along his neck and shoulders, trailing hot and slick up to his mouth. Ambrose was nothing more than a live wire of pleasure. It curled his toes and made him gasp and left him grabbing the sheets, grabbing Barrett, wanting to swallow the world into a void of pure bliss.
Barrett peppered his face and neck with kisses, his soft groans filling Ambrose’s ears. But Ambrose couldn’t find the brain cells to say more thanpleaseandyesandBarrett.
As slowly as he’d entered Ambrose, Barrett began stretching him. Ambrose reached for Barrett’s cock, eager to feel that warm, thin skin and the pump of blood through thick veins. “Do that and I’m gonna spill before we get to the main deal here.” Barrett was trying to chuckle but the sound strained from his throat.
“Where should I…” Ambrose licked his lips. He wanted to please Barrett. “Where should I touch you?”
“Kiss me.”
That Ambrose could do.
Over slow, pleasure-drenched minutes, Barrett filled Ambrose’s body while Ambrose devoured his mouth and tugged at his hair. His cheeks and chin burned from a bit of stubble but it was nothing compared to the heavy throb of desire between his legs. Barrett wasso carefuland that easy, gentle touch kept twisting the coil of need in the bottom of Ambrose’s belly. And those fingers were clever, stroking and slipping inside him, nudging so close to that nerve he knew would make his sight go blinding white and his body taut like a bowstring.
And when Barrett did bump his prostate, Ambrose gasped like he’d been punched. So Barrett did it again and he sobbed and clawed and thrashed.
When he couldn’t take it anymore, he said, “I’m good, I’m good. Barrett.”
And Barrett was there, sliding on a condom and then rolling them until he was against the headboard and Ambrose was perched on his lap and that slick, heavy cock was sliding between his cheeks. Ambrose wanted to cry with how good it was. “This okay?” Barrett asked.
Oh, that darkness was back, drowning out all the light in Barrett’s eyes. It made Ambrose want to see how lost he could get in it; wanted to see if it would swallow him whole. Devour him until nothing was left. “More than,” he whispered back. That thick cock nudged at his hole and Ambrose trembled. Barrett gripped him at the hips but the touch tightened as Ambrose let his body open to take Barrett in.
The slide of Barrett’s cock inside him set his heart hammering but Ambrose needed more. He wiggled and twisted, driving that cock deeper while Barrett held on for dear life.
When he bottomed out, Ambrose leaned forward with a grin, bracing himself on the headboard. “You feelso good,” he moaned, capturing Barrett’s mouth in a slow, drugged kiss. Barrett whimpered -whimpered- against him as his hips twitched. His body wanted in more, deeper, harder. Ambrose wanted to give it to him. “I need more.”
The scent of sex and sweat and coffee permeated his nostrils, and all Ambrose could feel wasBarrett. It felt right and good and perfect in the world-tilting kind of way he used to scoff at in well-thumbed books full of billowing sleeves and rocky cliffs and gusty sighs. But there was some truth to those yellowed pages and if he’d ever felt anything like it in the past, it was obliterated by the present. By the way Barrett clutched and clung to him, by the way he was kissed and held andfucked. Slow. Sure. Right.
The pleasure that had raced up his spine now spread and as he and Barrett moved together, their hands slipping on slick skin and the kisses they shared messy and wanton, Ambrose gave himself over. He let it consume him. He wanted to be taken by something more powerful than anything he’d ever experienced.
Barrett’s thrusts quickened and he felt, rather than heard, his name whispered against his throat. “I’m close. You feel so good. Ambrose.” Barrett pulled back and Ambrose saw nothing but the devouring void in those eyes. “I need you.”
“You perfect man.” He pulled Barrett in by the back of the neck and slammed himself down. That thick, hard cock inside him pressed just right and Barrett went rigid under him with a moan that could have rattled the house’s foundation. The warmth spilling inside him was muted and some part of him (the needy, greedy, grabby, wild part) wanted to feel that without the condom. He wanted to feel Barrett’s warmth deep inside him while they traded spit and sweat and swears and filled each other with pleasure.
Ambrose fumbled for his own cock but Barrett was there with him, shivering and shaking and groaning. Together they pulled Ambrose off the cliff, his climax ripping through him as he spilled on Barrett’s stomach.
When his senses returned, Ambrose pressed his sweaty forehead against Barrett’s. “You’re incredible.”
Barrett kissed him again with a palm under Ambrose’s jaw and fingers dug into his hair, all the way to the base of his skull. “So are you.”
Barrett didn’t know what to expect after their bodies cooled, but it wasn’t for Ambrose to snuggle up to him and sigh happily. He’d hoped something like that would happen, but everything was so new and raw. Sex could go from good to bad in a blink and yet, here they were. Sticky and sated and curled together on Ambrose’s bed.
He looked down at that fascinating, beautiful face, grey eyes hidden by closed lids, and smiled. Whatever this was between them, whatever lived in the spaces they shared, was making a home near his heart and Barrett welcomed it with open arms. He could see himself falling for Ambrose quickly. Probably already was.
“I can hear you.” Ambrose’s voice was a sleepy, heel-dragging thing.
