Liars (Licking Thicket 2)

“Yeah. Hell, yeah.” His eyes were intense, and his breathing was ragged as he pushed to his feet and shucked his shorts with no finesse whatsoever. He held up his hands so I could see them tremble. “Look what you do to me. Shit. I need you so much, Parrish.”

I exhaled a sharp breath. Those were not the three words I most wanted to hear Diesel say, but they were as close as I was going to get in this lifetime, and for tonight, they were enough.

They were plenty.

“Then take what you need. Right now. Hard and fast,” I reminded him as he moved behind me and pushed me down so I was bent over slightly with my hands braced on the railing. “I’m not delicate.”

But when Diesel grabbed the lube and drizzled it down my crack, he seemed to slow down somehow. I peeked over my shoulder to find him watching me, transfixed.

“Diesel? Please?” I whined. My cock was throbbing so hard I had to take one hand off the railing to give it a little relief.

He stepped closer to bat my hand away. “Patience, Butterfly Boy. I’m looking at this ass. This ass was made for fucking.”

I let my chin hang to my chest and clutched the railing with both hands. “I really thought we agreed Butterfly Boy was a no,” I whimpered.

He ran his fingers through the lube and pushed two inside me, since he’d already worked me open. “Oh, I think Butterfly Boy is a definite yes,” he said, his voice a scratchy rumble. Then he leaned over me so he could sink his teeth into the tendon at the side of my neck.

I jumped at the sensation, and so did my cock.

“You’re so damn responsive. I can feel how much you want this. How much you want me. It drives me crazy. And the noises you make, baby… Shit. I wanna bury myself in you until you can’t tell where you end and I begin.” His long fingers hooked inside of me, tagging my prostate.

“Oh, for the love of Cobb salad. This is torture,” I said, my voice slurred. “This is… this is… a serious violation of… of…”

Diesel’s fingers paused. “If you were gonna say the Camper Scout handbook, I’m going to slap your ass.”

I clamped my lips shut, pretty sure that was exactly what I was going to say, but unsure if I should admit it. “I might have been?”

Diesel laughed softly and stroked my aching length with his free hand. “We’re gonna talk about this another day, darlin’. You’re so gorgeous, I can’t hold out very much longer.”

“You shouldn’t hold out any much longer,” I babbled. “Fuck me now. Now would be good… for the fucking.”

He placed a laughing kiss on my shoulder blade and pulled back to cover himself with the condom and slick himself up with more lube. Seconds later, he spread his legs wide to get the angle right, pulled my ass cheeks apart, and poised himself at my entrance.

Holy fuck. When Diesel slid inside me, the sensation was so incredibly right, it brought tears to my eyes, and I bit my lip to keep from sobbing.

“Oh, Parrish. Baby. Goddamn, the way you feel,” he breathed. He pressed sweet kisses against my shoulder blade. “You okay?”

I nodded fervently, still unable to speak.

“No ‘Sweet candied okra!’?” he teased lightly. “No ‘Holy pickled watermelon!’? No ‘For the love of the blue swallowtail!’” He coasted warm hands over my stomach in circles like he knew I needed a minute to adjust, but it wasn’t the physical invasion I needed to adjust from.

I wasn’t sure how it was possible to feel more myself with someone else than I ever could on my own, but here I was. How was I supposed to go back to living without this in a matter of days or weeks? How was I supposed to go back to living without him?

How had this lie of a relationship become the realest, truest thing in my life?

Diesel slid partway out of me, then back in, and I couldn’t hold back a moan.

“Candied okra is horrible,” I managed, which was the world’s worst code for “please fuck me now and make my brain stop,” but Diesel got it. Of course he did. Just like he understood my humor and never made me feel small or stupid for the things I enjoyed. Just like he thought my silly sayings were adorable and my ass was made for fucking. He got me in a way no one else ever had… in a way no one else had ever wanted to.

I held the railing in a death grip, bracing against the powerful thrust of his hips as he moved inside me over and over, tagging my prostate with nearly every stroke.

“Parrish,” he said as he ran a hand up my back to clasp the back of my neck. “Parrish,” as he broke rhythm just long enough to lick a drop of sweat from my back. “Parrish,” as he finally, finally reached for my cock.