Steamroller

“Oh fuck!” he roared, and since the man never swore, I had to guess that the sentiment was from the heart.

Or somewhere close.

“You’re so tight.”

My muscles, even relaxed, had not wanted him there so deep, and the pain had sucked the arousal from my body… until he moved.

Carefully, slowly, trembling as he did it, he eased out and then changed his angle when he entered me the second time.

The care, the tenderness, and the feel of him pressing inside vibrated through me. Night and day difference between being fucked and having someone want to be in bed with you. I thought I knew things, thought I would be the one teaching him, but it turned out it was me who had secrets to learn about myself and who and what I wanted.

I needed him, craved him, and yearned to be devoured.

“Is it—” He swallowed hard. “Can I?”

“Yes,” I whispered.

He pulled out and then drove back into me, deeper, harder, faster, the motion pounding. His arms wrapped around my thighs as he plunged in and out, head back, eyes closed, lost now to the demands of his body. His cock was thick and long and hot, and I was being split by the size of it at the same time it ground over my prostate.

“Vince,” he ground out breathlessly, hands moving to my hips, gripping so tight, digging in as the pressure built and my muscles squeezed and rippled around him. “You gotta come, because I’m so close and I need you done before me.”

I grabbed hold of my cock and pumped, bowing up off the bed, my orgasm too close to contain. The stretch, the burn, how stuffed I was, it was more than I could bear. His name came out in a guttural yell as my muscles clamped down on him in a vise of silken heat. I splattered all over his gorgeous abdomen. He hammered into me as he found his own release, the pistoning so violent it would be a wonder if he didn’t leave bruises.

I was crushed moments later as he collapsed on top of me, arms wrapped around me tight before he rolled us over, still inside me, and I sprawled across his heaving chest.

“That was amazing.”

“Did the earth move, baby?” I teased.

“I will spank you—I’m just dying for a reason to do it.”

“Sorry.” I smiled but didn’t move. I couldn’t even lift my head. The aftershocks were still pulsing through me, sending currents of pleasure everywhere, making my muscles tighten involuntarily.

“Oh God, every time you clench the muscles in your ass… killing me.”

I chuckled into the side of his neck. “I made a mess. You’re gonna need a shower.”

“Like I care.” He exhaled loudly. “This is the best night of my life.”

“You just got laid.” I chuckled, licking the salt from his skin, sucking and nibbling up behind his ear. “I bet you said the same thing to the first girl you boned.”

“No,” he said, leaning his head to the side, hand fisted in my now sweat-dampened curls. “Come on, please put your sweet mouth all over me.”

“Sweet mouth?” I almost purred, and it would have been embarrassing, but I was still floating in postcoital euphoria. “Who are—”

“No,” he rasped, his hand tight in my hair, jerking my head back, holding me still so our eyes locked together. “That was exactly how I knew it would be, and that’s exactly how I need it to stay. I get it, I’m bi. I can feel every part of my body right now, every centimeter of skin, all of it, and I can’t remember the last time that happened. Ever since I saw you yesterday, I feel like I woke up, and I won’t go back to sleep, Vince. I can’t.”

But he didn’t love me—that was nuts.

“I don’t wanna run off and get married; I just want you to agree not to throw me out.”

“I’m not gonna throw you out,” I promised as he slowly let go of my hair and rubbed my scalp, his fingers now combing through my curls. “But you realize us—together—is nuts.”

“I am so sick of doing everything I’m told to, living exactly as I’m expected to, and being the guy everybody wants and nobody knows. I don’t even recognize myself in the mirror anymore.”

Gently, slowly, I slid off the end of his still-hard cock and would have rolled away, but he grabbed me.

“Carson, I—”

“No.” His voice broke as he clutched me to his chest, one heavy, muscular thigh draped over my hip, his arms wrapping me up and hugging me tight. His chin rubbed over the top of my head, and I heard his deep sigh of contentment.

“Don’t confuse sex with—”

“I know,” he assured me even as he kissed my forehead. “And cry me a river, right? The superstar has a problem, must be tough.”