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Oh my god.
Oh my fucking god.
I cannot believe that happened. That was so fucking reckless, so fuckinggood.
Quinn whimpers, his chin against his chest, his body shaking from his release.
“Goddammit, Grey,” he mutters, his hand still on his dick.
I can’t move. I’m just lying beneath him, my cock and balls still out of my boxers, my chest heaving. I have his cum on my stomach, on my chest, on my dick.
There’s no escaping it. I can smell it. He smells so fuckinggood.
“That, right there… You’ve wrecked me for other men,” he says with a sigh, his eyes meeting mine, and I see the sincerity there.
It pinches my heart because I know he could find someone better. He’s still young. He has his whole life ahead of him. Meanwhile, I’m pushing middle age, just tired and a fucking wreck.
“Donotfucking regret this,” he mutters as he leans forward, his hand leaving his dick. He slides a cum-covered finger across my bottom lip, forcing me to taste him.
My tongue peeks out and I lick him up as he lets out a whimper.
“Oh, Jesus,” he breathes, and then his fingers slide into my mouth. One. Two. Three. My tongue laps up the mess on his skin as he fucks his hand in and out of my mouth. It’s filthy and degrading, but the way he’s watching me makes me feel like a fucking king.
Like he’s waited his whole damn life for this moment, right here.
“You are a dream,” he murmurs when his fingers hit the back of my throat and he leaves them there, forcing me to swallow around him.
I shouldn’t be doing this, and yet, here I am.
Like, I said, never a bad decision I didn’t like.
He stares down at me and slowly retracts his hand until my mouth is empty. Our eyes lock and we just gaze at each other, awe and lust heavy between us.
His lips lower to mine for a soft, gentle kiss before he pulls away, standing up and moving to the bathroom.
“Don’t move,” he says, and then I hear the water running. He’s back a moment later with a damp washrag, and he gently cleans me up until no trace of him is left.
Does it make me a bad man to wish he’d left a part of him on me, so I could feel him tomorrow? So I could remember this?
He tosses the used washrag into the kitchen sink and then lowers himself down next to me, our naked, spent bodies pressed up against each other once more.
“Don’t run,” he whispers, almost like he’s reading my mind. I should run, I should run very far away, but I’m too tired to move. And honestly, what more could I really do? I already crossed all the lines. Lying here for a while longer won’t change the fact that I fucked around with him.
Quinn turns his face and buries his nose in my armpit, inhaling me, his fingers running through the hair on my chest.
“What was your dream about?” I ask as my hand slides against his shoulder, pulling him a little closer.
“You really wanna know?”
“Yeah, I do.”
He sighs, his fingers plucking at my nipple, causing my entire body to tremble with renewed lust. But I tamp it down. Now is not the time.
“Well, you’ve met my mom and dad, so you know how I was raised. They aren’t bad parents…but they kinda are, you know? They wanted me to be free-range or whatever, independent. So very early on, I was out doing shit that I shouldn’t have…things that should have been supervised by an adult.”
“Yeah, I noticed that about you.”
His hand stills and he sighs. “Well, when you don’t have much guidance or supervision like that, you don’t come out unscathed. I’ve had some pretty close calls growing up. Got lost a lot.”
