He wanted to show Rafa everything. Teach him how good it could be, with no shame or hang-ups or other people’s bullshit. Spreading his legs more, Shane reached down to tease his balls. “This is all for you, Rafa. No one else.”
As Shane worked himself, breathing hard, Rafa watched. He was so beautiful, and Shane felt like the luckiest bastard in the whole damn world.
“Don’t come yet,” Rafa murmured breathlessly, his eyes locked on Shane’s groin. “I want you inside me again.”
Shane smiled to hear Rafa give an order of his own. “Yeah? You know what you want?”
“Uh-huh.” His Adam’s apple bobbed and his cock leaked.
The urge to bury himself in Rafa any way he could was building and building, but Shane forced a deep breath. “I don’t want to hurt you, baby. It’s only been a couple hours, and—”
“I know what I want.” Rafa scrambled onto his hands and knees. “Like this. Please. I’ve always… I want you to take me from behind.”
With a groan, Shane pushed to his knees. They both moaned as he leaned over Rafa and licked down his spine. He spread Rafa’s ass and blew a stream of air over his hole. It was red and would surely be sore tomorrow, but Rafa was pushing back desperately.
Shane took his time, using so much lube it was dripping down Rafa’s thighs. Rafa panted and grunted, and when Shane eased inside him as gently as he could, Rafa cried out and pushed back.
“Fuck, Shane. It’s so much better than…”
He thrust deeper. “What?”
“When I would use my fingers and pretend it was you.”
Shane groaned as he pushed into Rafa’s body. “Did imaginary me fuck your tight ass good?”
“Uh-huh. Don’t stop.”
Shane didn’t think he could if he tried, especially as Rafa squeezed around him. It felt so good without rubber between them, and he was so grateful that they could have this.
“I’ll never let anyone hurt you again.” The words spilled out. “Never,” Shane muttered, running his hands over Rafa’s back.
“I know, Shane.” Rafa looked back at him with trust shining in his eyes. “Me either.”
When Shane eased out a few inches and pushed back in, Rafa cried out so prettily, dropping his head. Fuck, he was everything Shane had imagined, but so much more. So free and generous, moaning his pleasure as sweat slicked their skin.
His hips bumped against Rafa’s ass, and he watched as he thrust in and out. Shit, he wasn’t going to last long at this rate. Tangling his fingers in Rafa’s curls, he leaned over and lifted his head for a messy kiss.
On the next stroke, he found Rafa’s prostate, rubbing over the swollen nub as Rafa called out, grunting and panting. Shane dug his fingers into Rafa’s hips, wanting to empty himself so badly, but not before Rafa came.
Reaching around, he jerked Rafa’s rigid cock, whispering into his ear the words he knew he wanted to hear. “Going to fill you with my cum until it’s leaking out of you. You want that?”
“Yes, yes, yes.” It was like a prayer as Rafa spread his knees wider and dropped to his elbows, jerking as he spurted on the tangled sheets.
He clamped down on Shane’s cock, and it was Shane’s turn to come, his mouth open as he emptied himself. The sensation of spilling right into him made Shane’s eyes roll back and his hips snap forward, rutting against Rafa’s ass.
Gasping, Shane bent forward and braced his hands on the mattress. He pressed kisses to Rafa’s back and shoulders, the salt of his sweat tangy on his lips. He was still inside him, and it was wet and messy and wonderful.
Curls tickling his nose, he kissed the back of Rafa’s damp neck. “How was that?”
Rafa’s voice was raw. “It was okay, I guess.”
The laughter burst out of Shane, joy and warmth shaking his limbs as he collapsed. He pulled out and stretched his legs, lifting up enough for Rafa to stretch out too before covering his body again. Tenderly, Shane touched his fingertips to Rafa’s sticky hole. “I’ll try to do better next time.”
“Mmm. Could you?” Rafa mumbled. “That would be great.”
“So you’re a wiseass in bed, huh?”
Rafa turned his head. “I guess sometimes I am.” He frowned. “Is that weird?”
Pressing a kiss to his cheek, Shane murmured, “That’s perfect.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
A sharp wind danced off the waves, and Rafa shivered as he stepped off the back porch of Shane’s little house. The sand was cold as the sun made its way above the horizon, but he still dug his toes into it as he walked toward the Pacific’s edge, his jeans rolled up past his ankles. Stopping short of where the sand was wet, he turned on his phone, laughing at the extended text from Ashleigh.
I’m going to take your silence as a positive sign that you and your man are fucking ten ways to Sunday. When you’re able to climb off his undoubtedly well-endowed dick for a few minutes, send me an update. Things in New York are pretty good. My job at the modeling agency is soul-sucking, but your sister-in-law remains the sweetest and took me to a party to network with fashion types. My parents barely acknowledged my birthday, but whatever. Oh, and there’s one new thing. I met a girl at a bar last night who is a DaVinci and a half. Her name is Penelope. (For real.) Babe, I’m in love.