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He twists himself into a pretzel, keeping his hips locked tight against mine, bending enough to reach my lips as we kiss, our hot breath fanning over each other’s lips as we ride out the cresting high of our releases.
“Come with me,” I say, my hand working him from tip to base as I rock into his ass with my hips. “Need to feel you come. Squeeze me tight. Take this cock. All of it.”
“Fill me, Cay. Make me yours. God—I’m fucking yours,” he pants, his ass squeezing me like a vice until I choke back a scream. “Say you love me. Say you need me like I need you. I need you like fucking air, Cay.”
I drop my forehead to his back, my thrusting going still as I give him what he needs. “I love you, Jake. You’re mine. All fucking mine. My rock and my love, the beating heart of this family. You’re the axis that makes our world spin. Be with me forever. Be mine. Jake, please—”
His left hand grabs at mine, weaving our fingers together as he places his on the shelf. His right drops down to wrap around mine on his dick. We work him together as I move my hips once, twice, three more times.
My release barrels through me and I cry out, burying the sound at his back. I come inside him so hard it makes my knees shake. At the same time, he groans beneath me, his hot cum releasing all over our joined hands, dripping in between our knuckles.
“Oh god,” he groans.
We hold there, doing nothing but breathe together. This is what he needs. I need the moment when we join. He needs the moment we release. That’s when he feels us most in sync. So I wait. I breathe with him. Ibe.
“I love you,” I murmur, feeling him relax completely into my hold. “I love you, Jake.”
He nods, still too lost in the cloud of his orgasm to reply.
After a moment he lets out a deep breathe. His muscles tighten and I know he’s back in his own head. “Fuuuuuck, I needed that,” he says on a contented sigh. He shifts beneath me and I lift my sticky hand away from his softening dick.
“It was a good shot,” I admit at last. “Methodical and clean. You earned it.”
He huffs a laugh, glancing over his shoulder. “Come on, it was pretty as a picture and you know it. Fucking textbook.”
“It was good,” I repeat.
I slip out of him with a grunt, dropping down to pull up my pants. He may have to wear me out of here, but I have to wear him too. Inevitably we’ll shower when we get home, which will hopefully morph into round two, preferably with someone with softer curves wedged between us.
Jake pulls up his shorts, one handed, reaching for a roll of paper towel with the other. It’s the shit kind they put in the bathrooms, but it’s better than nothing. We do the minimum to clean the jizz and lube off our hands.
“You gonna say it now?” he says with a big grin.
“Say what?”
“That I’m a better forward than you.”
I glare at him. “You got lucky.”
“Nu-uh. No way.” He shakes his head, tossing his shirt over his shoulder as he crosses his arms. “You just said it was methodical. You said I earned it.”
“I was lying to make you feel better.”
“You’re such a fucking asshole,” he huffs. “Can’t you just give me this? One time. One tiny little time, I wanna hear you call me King of the Ice and mean it.”
“You’re King of the Ice Cream,” I reply with a smirk.
“Yes—wait—seriously? Ice cream?” His smile turns into a frown.
“What? I thought that was your thing too. Your whole bullshit super power. Remember?”
“It’s not bullshit and of course I remember,” he replies. “I can be King of two things. Come on, just say it. Say I’m better than you.”
Before I can reply, there’s a sharp rapping at the door.
Shit…who would knock?
Jake and I exchange a confused look before Ilmari’s deep voice calls through the door. “Guys, open the door.”
