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“Jesus,” I moaned, hating how that simple touch made my entire body wake up.
“That’s right.” He pressed the pad of his finger against my hole and rubbed it in a slow circle. “I’m guessing you don’t usually bottom?” He dipped the tip of his finger inside me.
“Do we really need to talk right now?” I grunted and clenched around his digit. It had been years since I’d done any sort of assplay.
“Yes. It’s called being an adult.” He pushed in a bit deeper. “Are you usually the top?”
“Yes,” I grated out. “Got something to say about it?”
“No.” He pulled his finger free. “Relax while I get the lube.”
Relax? Yeah, that wasn’t happening. Not while I lay here spread out and on display for him.
Christ. Why couldn’t he just get on with it? I already knew it was going to hurt like hell.
Something blunt and slippery rubbed over my hole.
“Shit,” I breathed and put my forehead on my folded hands.
“Lift this leg.” He patted my thigh. “Open up and shift onto your other hip so I can get my hand under you.”
Biting back my retort, I did as he said. Something about his bossiness and the way he refused to let me derail things or give him attitude was strangely calming.
Oh, but I wanted to fight. I also wanted to give in.
A big, hot hand gripped my cock and stroked.
“Ungh,” I grunted.
He did it again, tighter and faster, and pushed his finger inside me.
The dual sensation of being jerked off and stretched was incredible, and confusing. Pleasure pinged between my cock and ass, and a strange, wonderful pressure built deep inside me.
“There you go,” he purred. “Now relax so you can take more.”
My body obeyed, releasing the last of the tension I’d been holding.
The sting and stretch of a second finger stopped me from spiraling.
Why did this feel so good?Don’t fight it.
I sank into the pleasure, giving in to not only the moment, but to him.
“Can you take three?” His husky voice slid into my ear.
I nodded.
He carefully worked another inside me, taking his time, letting me get used to the stretch.
“There you go. Now how about we find your spot?” Crooking his fingers, he dragged them over my prostate.
“Fuuuuuuck,” I groaned, my hips twitching from the overwhelming need for more.
“That’s it. Get yourself nice and ready for my cock.” He held his hands still.
“Don’t stop,” I gasped, half delirious with need. More, I needed more.
“I won’t,” he said softly. “Take what you need. Get ready for me.”
