All Kinds of Tied Down (Marshals 1)

“Miro!” he yelled, bucking forward into my fist. “Please.”

The garbled request in Ian’s gruff rumble was something I’d only ever hoped to hear.

“I have to—” He gasped as I slid one slick finger between his cheeks, his entire body clenching at once. “—you have to….”

I squeezed his cock and he heaved out a breath, relaxing at once as I slid my hand up and down his shaft, fondled his balls, and slid my thumb along the slit of his large flared head.

“Are you ready?”

“Yes,” he rasped, wriggling under me.

“Ian,” I said huskily, drilling my middle finger deeper, pressing against the spongy entrance, circling and then pressing steadily inside. “I want you to feel good.”

“I do. Just hurry.” His demand ended in a deep groan as I angled my finger forward, grazing his prostate, making him jerk in my arms. “Oh fuck!”

It was a very good sound. “Has anyone ever done this?”

“No.”

“Ian, have you? Tell me.”

“Miro,” he whimpered, “I didn’t know I would….”

“What?” I asked, stroking inside his body, relentless with my attention. “You didn’t know you would what?”

“Want this,” he rasped, leaning forward and then pushing back, jolting as he did it, rubbing over the spot that, from his reaction, no one else had ever touched.

I moved in and out, over and over, added a second finger, working him gently, slowly, relaxing his muscles in careful stages. His crown was swollen in my other hand, steadily leaking, adding to the slide of my hand over him.

He was sweating and shaking, and when I added my tongue to my fingers, he yelled my name.

“You’re doing great,” I praised softly, nibbling his ass, licking, and finally taking a gentle bite.

“I-I feel like I’m gonna break if you don’t hurry.”

Straightening up, I gently withdrew my fingers and released his dick. “Come, then, we can do this when you—”

“No, not like….” He released a huff of breath, almost crying out at the end, and I could tell from how rigid he’d gone that me not understanding was frustrating.

I was making him ready, opening him up, but also now killing him with my hesitancy.

“You need to stay still while I put on the condom.”

“What condom?”

It was my turn to jolt. “Ian, I figured when you bought lube you bought condoms.”

“Did you see them in the bag?”

No, actually, I hadn’t. “Yeah, but you know I’ve slept with a ton of guys.”

He looked over his shoulder, into my face. “Me too. Well.” He shrugged. “Girls, but we get tested every six months, and I’ve never had sex without a rubber.”

“No,” I said, coughing. “Me neither.”

He let his head drop back down. “Yeah, so, we’re good and I trust you and you’re already my best friend, so… nothing, okay? Just us.”

I was going to come inside my best friend, the man I wanted more than anything. Dear God, I wanted to keep him.

“You’re thinking too much.”

I was.

While slathering my cock with lube, I pressed fingers back inside his slick hole, scissoring them apart, over and over, firm but gentle.

“You need to push out when I push in, you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Grab your dick, Ian. Get yourself off.”

“Don’t need to—” He gasped. “—do anything.”

“Okay,” I husked as I lined my head up with his pink puckered hole.

“Stop thinking,” he pleaded.

As though I could keep a thought in my head that wasn’t Ian.

Easing forward, I pushed slowly inside, then stopped, waiting, letting his body get used to the invasion, feeling his muscles clamp down around me.

Ian dropped onto the mattress, arms not able to hold him, only his ass raised as I breached him, watched him take my cock inch by inch. He was so tight, so hot, and the slide was easy despite the muscles rippling around my length.

“Miro,” he ground out, and the sound of him was annihilating.

He tensed against me, but my angle, the force of my weight, was too much. I drove deep with one fierce thrust, buried completely.

“Oh fuck,” Ian moaned, and his voice broke, cracked, and I heard when it changed to a cry.

I was about to pull back, but his arm rose fast, his hand like a vise on my thigh, holding me still, keeping me there.

“Wait.”

Of course I would; I would do anything he wanted. I was balls deep in the one man in the world I wanted my whole life to be about. Whatever he wanted, needed, I would give.

“Miro.”

But I wasn’t in control, and that was bad.

Leaning close, I ordered him to lift up, my low voice in his ear. When he rose, I wrapped an arm over his shoulder and across his chest, grabbing hold of his left pectoral as I braced us both with my left arm.

His head fell against my shoulder, and I stamped ravenous kisses to the length of his throat as my chest plastered to his back.

“Miro,” he huffed, writhing under me as I ground my hips forward, pounded into him deep and hard. “Don’t stop.”