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“It’s the game. You better never go easy on me.”
I rolled my eyes. “Like that would ever happen.”
“Good because I wouldn’t with you either.”
“Is it bad that I wanted to kick the shit out of my own offensive line when they tackled you, though?”
“Nope. Not as long as you never actually do it.” He knew I wouldn’t. We both did. Football and our relationship had to be completely separate. “I used up my patience during our time apart. Bend your ass over the arm of the couch, Malik.”
The way he said my name, smooth and thick, like warm honey on a biscuit, made my heart race in a foreign way.
“Get inside of me.”
“I’m getting there, Tuck.”
I did as he said, ass in the air as Patrick slicked his fingers, pushing one, then two, inside of me. He fucked me with them slowly, like we had all night, even though we both knew we didn’t. I understood how he felt, that need to have me right away but the urge to draw it out as well. It was how I felt every time we were together.
He rubbed my prostate, making me moan for him.
“I jack myself off thinking about all the sounds you make, the way your body feels against mine, and what it’s like to be inside of you or have you inside of me,” he whispered close to my ear.
“Fuck yes. I bet that’s a pretty sight. I want you to do it for me sometimes, let me watch you pleasure yourself while you’re thinking of me.”
He twisted his fingers inside of me, stretching me as I pushed back against him, trying to get more.
“Hungry for it, aren’t you?”
“Shut up and fuck me, Patrick.”
I knew he was grinning but had to look over my shoulder to see it. It damn near made my legs go out beneath me.
He grabbed the lube and got himself slicked up, pressing the head of his cock against my hole, hands on my hips, and filling me with one thrust.
Neither of us would last long, we both knew. I stroked my cock while he slammed into me over and over again.
“You feel so good, like your body was made for mine.”
It was. Maybe that was fucking crazy to think about, but I believed it.
“Give it to me. I want your cum. Fill me up,” I ordered, my own orgasm already barreling down on me.
The second he leaned forward, pressing a kiss to my nape, I lost it, shooting my release all over the arm of my couch, feeling like I was drowning in pleasure.
Patrick’s cock jerked inside of me, his own release pulling from his balls, my ass milking him dry.
“Fuck, I needed that,” I told him.
“Me too.”
“Lay down. I’ll be right back.”
Patrick looked at me curiously but did as I said. I went to the kitchen and grabbed a couple of ice bags from the freezer before I returned, the two of us naked and fitting together like two puzzle pieces on the couch that was too small for us.
I held one of the packs to his hip, and he pressed one to the bruise on my shoulder.
“You were a little ginger on this tonight.”
“It was bothering me some, but not much.”
