Just a Bit Dirty (Straight Guys 10)

“Come on,” Miles said breathlessly. “What’s the point of having such a fancy car with a huge backseat if you don’t make use of it?”

“You can’t be serious,” Ian said, mouthing at his ear. “Sex in the backseat? I’m not a teenager.”

Ignoring his words, Miles yanked Ian’s fly open and pulled his erection out. It was hot and hard and perfect in his hand.

Ian sucked a breath in. “Stop. We don’t have lube.”

“Isn’t there Vaseline in that compartment? I think I’ve seen one.”

“I have no fucking idea. It doesn’t matter. We’re not fucking in the car, Miles.”

Miles squeezed Ian’s cock. “Why not?”

Ian hissed. He glared at him and bit off, “I don’t have condoms with me.”

That should have been it. All his life, Miles had rolled his eyes at people who claimed that they were “too caught up in the moment” to use protection. But now his only thought was, I don’t care. I need you.

“You’re clean, right? I’m clean. You know you’re my first.” Miles knew he was playing dirty—he knew how much that turned Ian on—but he wasn’t above using Ian’s possessiveness to get what he wanted. And at the moment, all he wanted was Ian.

He wasn’t disappointed.

With a guttural noise, Ian finally kissed him, fingers holding his chin in a punishing grip as Ian devoured his mouth, crowding him against the seat.

God.

Miles lost all track of time, losing himself in Ian’s hungry, possessive kisses, Ian’s hard cock throbbing in his hand. The sounds of the engine and cars honking seemed incredibly distant and unreal; Ian was the only thing that mattered. He stroked Ian’s cock as Ian tongue-fucked his mouth, his mind foggy with arousal and need. He wanted to swallow Ian, take him inside himself, and finally make them whole.

It took a lot of fumbling, but they finally managed to pull Miles’s jeans and boxers off, find the Vaseline, and slick up Ian’s cock. It took even more fumbling to hastily prepare Miles. It was perfunctory at best, but Miles didn’t care.

“This is fucking insane,” Ian gritted out, sagging back against the seat and watching Miles line up Ian’s cock with his hole. His lips quirked into a crooked smile. “You’re insane.”

Miles grinned at him, giggling, but his giggles turned into a long moan as he slowly sank down on Ian’s slicked cock. Fuuuuck. It was a good thing Ian’s cock wasn’t too intimidatingly thick or it would have been undoubtedly painful with such inadequate prep. As it was, it felt perfect.

When he was finally fully seated on the hard length inside him, Miles lifted his unfocused gaze to Ian, and fuck, the sight of him, fully clothed, in his expensive dark suit, with only his cock out for Miles’s enjoyment, his face tight with pleasure and his eyes glazed… It was an incredible turn-on.

Leaning forward to give himself more space to move, Miles pressed his face against the cushion, his body shaking, the world spinning out of control. He started riding Ian, trying to swallow down his moans. He was only half-successful: small, muffled sounds still left his mouth as he gyrated his hips on Ian’s cock, trying to hit that spot inside him. Ian’s fingers dug hard into his cheeks, helping him ride him, Ian’s breathing harsh and unsteady in his ear.

Miles turned his face to look at Ian and found himself transfixed, caught in Ian’s hungry gaze. Miles hoped his own gaze wasn’t as besotted as he felt. He felt beautiful, wanted, and special. Ian always made him feel that way. Ian made him feel sexy, powerful, and powerless all once. It was such an addictive feeling.

His eyes locked with Ian’s, Miles started riding him faster.

He had never felt so out of control, so turned on. Fuck, he loved this, loved fucking himself on Ian’s cock, loved feeling so connected to Ian, seeing Ian’s eyes become glassy with lust, feeling how much pleasure Ian was taking in him, Ian’s cock hard and hot inside him.

Soon, Miles couldn’t muffle his moans anymore, small Ah, Ah, Ahs leaving his mouth at every downward movement. He knew he was too loud, he knew that the driver could likely hear his moans and the obscene slick sounds as their hips moved, seeking release. He didn’t care. Oh god, oh god, oh god.

Ian’s fingers pressed hard against his perineum, and Miles saw stars, coming with a loud groan. He sagged against Ian like a rag doll, letting Ian thrust into him for a while until he felt Ian come deep inside him and go still.

It took Miles a while to regain his ability to think. When he did, he realized that the car wasn’t moving anymore—which meant that they had arrived, and the driver had definitely heard what they had been doing in the backseat. As if on cue, the driver’s door opened and closed, and then there was the sound of rapidly retreating steps.