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“What do you want, Nico?” I ask. It takes him a long time to answer, his abdomen rising and falling with even breaths.
“I want you to fuck me into the mattress. Hard. I want to you to break the bed with me.”
Predictably, these words have an immediately apparent effect on my body. Still standing behind him, I tug his shirt up and over his head before turning him around to face me. The room is black, seeing as we haven’t turned on any lights since we’ve been home, so I can see the outline of him but nothing more. I take a second to trace my thumbs over the contours of his face, which I know as well as my own by now. Leaning down, I kiss the side of his jaw and wish, as I always do, that it was his mouth.
Releasing him, I step back so we can both finish undressing. As usual, Nico takes his clothes and puts them where they belong, and I discard mine on a chair that’s pushed into a corner. When I meet him on the bed, Nico already has lube and a condom waiting. A lamp is on and providing low lighting. He looks so good in warm, bedroom light: miles of leg, and a slender torso with hints of firm muscle underneath. Wanting him has become both pleasure and pain, I wantthisbut I also want more than he can give me, and both of those facts war for dominance in my head. Tonight, pleasure wins.
When I climb on top of him, his knees are already raised and his hands are pulling me down. I drop my weight onto him, cradled between his legs, and give a fair bit of attention to his chest with my mouth. His hands are roaming, but when they travel too far south I catch them and pin them to the bed. It makes him chuckle—a soft, husky sound in the low light.
“If you want me to fuck you, you can’t touch me like that. I’ll come before we even get the chance,” I murmur around one of his nipples.
“As you were,” he says, still sounding amused. “I’ll keep my hands to myself, for now.”
With that, I let him go and continue my own ministrations. Since he’s not the one who’ll be doing the fucking, I have no qualms about taking him into my mouth as I prep him. He’s so easy to open up—one lubed finger sliding inside with not a bit of resistance, and that little noise of pleasure he makes when I do it. Fuck, what I wouldn’t give to hear that noise. I mostly tease him with my mouth, running the tip of my tongue over the sensitive rim of his cockhead, and lapping at the slit until he leaks. I love doing this; love that I know exactly what his body wants and how to coax those little moans out of him.
“Anthony,” he warns, when I’ve got two fingers inside and am licking my way from the bottom to the top of his dick. Smiling as I suck him back down, my name turns to a heavy groan and I press my fingers against his prostate.
Since I don’t want him to come until I’m inside him, I pull back a bit on the teasing. Working a third finger through his tight rim, I move my hand languidly, stretching him out with a gentle slide in and out. When he begins rocking his hips, breath coming in short gasps, I pull out of him slowly and sit back on my heels. When I reach for the condom and roll it on, Nico shifts onto his elbows and starts to roll over onto hands and knees.
“Wait, no.” I stop him, with a firm hand on his shoulder. He squints through the low light at me, and I circle my thumb over his skin. “Like this, okay?”
He nods, letting me push him back onto the bed. I want to see his face, this first time, with or without kissing. Leaning down, I kiss his jaw again in silent thank you. I feel like he’s started giving me more of him, these last few days, and I wonder how much more I can get. I want to convince him to give us a shot, and every inch he gives me is as good as a mile. Smiling, I kiss along his jaw until I reach his ear and move down his neck.By now I’ve learned where he’s sensitive, so I linger here while I reach down and position myself at his entrance.
I give him no warning when I slide inside, nor do I ease into it. Hooking a hand under one of his thighs, I push his leg up until his foot is completely off the bed; he does the same with his other leg without prompting, and reaches down to cup his hands around my ass. He’s not the only one who can take a hint. Planting my own knees more firmly on the bed, I thrust deep inside him until I meet resistance.
“Hard,” he reminds me, fingers tightening and hands pulling me toward him. Reaching down, I grab one wrist and wrench his arm above his head, sliding my hand up until I can link our fingers against the bed.
I dispense with the steady rocking and drive my hips against him, roughly. With his feet resting against my low back, and his knees locked around me, I can shove deep inside. Every time my pelvis slams against his, he groans. I don’t bother to find a rhythm, but let my body take control naturally; every thrust has me sinking deeper inside him, and his fingers tightening on mine. My own breathing sounds harsh to my ears, as I pick up speed.
He’s moving beneath me, rolling his hips in a way that lets me feel his erection against my stomach. Now I’m the one groaning, with my forehead resting down against his and our uneven breathing clouding the air between us. I think I’m probably hurting his wrist, with how hard I’m leaning on our linked hands, but I can’t pull away with how tightly he’s holding on to me.
Nico doesn’t talk during sex, so I follow his lead and instead focus all my energy on not blowing my load too quickly. I want to draw this out—grind against him, move inside him, and wreck him for as long as biologically possible. On every forward thrust he clenches around me, hard, and my control slips thatmuch more. We’re so beyond a steady tempo at this point, there is no going back. The room is filled with the heavy slap of flesh, and our harsh breathing; I think I do hear an ominous crack in the bedframe at one point, and drive into him even harder.Break the bed with me, he’d said. I’d be happy to oblige.
“Jack yourself,” I grunt, the words coming out scratchy and half-formed. He does, reaching his free hand down and wrapping it around himself. I watch, wishing there was a way I could do that with my mouth without pulling out of him. Nico bows up below me, eyes closed and biting his lip, hard. Every sound he makes has me nearing my release in leaps and bounds—nothing in this world is sexier than those noises. I try to say his name but can’t wrap my tongue around the letters. I’m about to come and I want him to come with me.
He does. I fill the condom, continuing my barrage on him even as his own movements slow and his moans become thready. Slowly, I come down: rolling my hips gently now, and feeling my cum leak out of the overfilled condom. One of his hands is on my flank, and he uses this to pull me downward, stopping any further movement. This time, when I drop onto him, I really do hear the bed creak. Maybe next time we’ll break it for real.
I can’t bring myself to let go of his hand, where it’s still holding his above our heads. He doesn’t seem to mind, judging by the soothing rub of his thumb over my palm. It’s almost sweet, and my throat feels a little tight at the thought. I don’t want to evaluate my feelings about Nico too closely, and most certainly not when he’s lying naked and sweaty beneath me. Turning my head, I lay my cheek on his shoulder, close my eyes, and breathe.
“The bed seems to be intact,” he says, lips shifting my hair.
“Something to work up to for next time.”
“It’s always nice to have goals.” He barely has to turn his head to kiss mine, and now my throat really does feel tight.
“I can get off of you.” I really don’t want to, nor do I want to let go of our clasped hands. I want his face to remain pressed into my hair, and his cum sticky between us. I want to sleep in this bed for the entire night, and wake him up in the morning for another round.
“We can wait just a bit.” Nico squeezes my fingers. “I don’t think my legs are working just yet, anyway.”
I’m still inside him, and even with the condom I can tell I’ve made a mess of the bed. I can’t bring myself to feel badly about it or to suggest we clean up. I’d stay here indefinitely, if he suggested it. Turning my head so my opposite cheek rests against his shoulder, I nudge his jaw with my nose.
“I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of this,” I tell him, honestly. Sex had become rote for me, more of something I did to combat being alone, than because it was something I craved. Sex with Nico feels like breathing; it feels like something I can’t and shouldn’t live without.
“No,” he agrees, so quietly the word is barely spoken at all. “I’m impressed with you.”
“I am very skilled in bed, I’m glad you’ve noticed.”
I don’t have to lift my head to know he’s rolling his eyes. Smiling, I wiggle my hips a little bit and feel myself slide a little more out of him. “I’m impressed that you haven’t run for the hills. You’re quite adventurous.”
