I suck on his tongue, and he grunts.
“Lube. Bedside table.”
I stretch and reach for the drawer but falter when Reed’s lips land on my pecs. He licks around my nipple and then gently bites down.
“Fuck,” I hiss.
He takes the lube out of my hands and lathers it on his fingers. “We’ll take it slow.”
Even though nearly everything I’ve read on the internet about anal says the most important thing is prepping, I just want to get it over with and get to the good part.
When I nod, Reed cups the back of my head with one hand, as his fingers trail down my back.
“You set the pace, okay?” he whispers.
When a lubed finger breaches my hole, I tense for that moment of awkwardness I’ve experienced when doing this to myself.
Reed is patient with me as I get used to the uncomfortable feeling between my ass cheeks. There’s pleasure mixed with a slight burn, and I know it’ll get better once I relax—it’s just getting my body to do it that’s the issue.
With his free hand, Reed reaches between us. His cock is half-hard, resting against mine, but Reed grasps us both. As he slowly strokes us together, my hips involuntarily begin to move. His finger sinks deeper with each small thrust, and the friction on my cock makes my mind drift away from what’s happening in my ass.
“You going okay?” Reed breathes.
My hand trembles as I lean on one elbow and brush his blond hair across his forehead. “More than okay.”
When he adds a second finger, and I adjust, everything changes. I end up rutting against him in a frantic need for more. If I’m not careful, I could come like this—with him stroking my dick while I ride his fingers. The fullness in my ass and his tight grip on my cock has me seeing stars.
I grunt while Reed whispers small encouragements. My enthusiasm stirs his own dick into action, and before I know it, he’s harder than I am as I move against him.
“Do you think you can take more?”
I freeze on top of him, the nerves suddenly too much. This feels amazing, but Reed’s a lot bigger than his fingers.
“Did you want to come like this?” he asks. “We don’t have to take it further tonight.”
“I want to, but …” Yep, I’m chickening out. Motherfucker.
“Hey, it’s okay. I don’t want to do anything you’re not ready for. I’m only asking because a few more minutes of this, I’m going to come again, and I want to know if I need to pull back.”
The fact he gets so worked up over me turns me on more than I ever thought possible. Sex has always been better when it involved anyone other than my hand—that’s a given. I enjoyed it, I got off on it, but with Reed, it’s more than getting off. I want to come but make it last as long as possible at the same time. I don’t want to reach the finish line, but I’m desperate for it. I’m desperate for him. For everything. Not taking it further tonight leaves a promise that I’ll be back.
“Come,” I encourage him. “Please.”
When Reed’s fingers move inside me, they hit that spot, and I’m suddenly lost to my own pleasure.
My eyes roll back, and my hips pick up their pace again, rocking against Reed. Our cocks, slick and leaking precum, slide easily against one another. Our breathing becomes ragged and loud to the point I don’t know which sound comes from who.
It’s sensory overload, and I grit my teeth as I come. Reed’s hips buck upwards once, then twice, and then more warmth hits my stomach as he stills.
Neither of us moves for the longest time, our breaths mingling, limbs tangled. We’re a sweaty, breathy heap of useless muscles right now.
When Reed finally pulls his fingers out of me, I wince at the loss—that connection—but when he raises his head to kiss me, I’m too distracted by his domineering mouth and commanding tongue to care.
He moans and grips my ass. “Please don’t run off right now.”
The sudden crash of reality doesn’t take too long to happen after coming. I don’t want to run off, but I have to. The more time I spend with him as Anders, the more chance I have of saying something I shouldn’t. I try to pull out of Reed’s arms, but he holds me tighter.
“At least stay for a shower to clean up first.”
“A shower I can do.”
Disappointment clouds Reed’s eyes, but he nods. Not for the first time, guilt over lying to him almost makes me confess everything, but I can’t. Not now. I’m too far gone. We’ve passed the point of being able to come back from this.
9
Reed
“Mr. Garvey, do you have a boyfriend?” Keira asks from the front row of my classroom.