Pressing my body against his, I slide an arm beneath him as I kiss his shoulder. My dick is nestled between his cheeks, wet from my rubbing on his dick. I fuck along his crack, imagining I’m inside him instead. It’s the best feeling in the world. I get closer and closer to coming. When I feel the first spurt bursting out of me, I grab onto my dick and find his hole. He moans when I slightly push against the resistant flesh, the rest of my cum jetting into his body. It would be so easy to push all the way inside and feel a bliss I’ve never known, but that would hurt him.
I never want to hurt him.
Ever.
So, I keep the crown of my cock barely pressed into him as I leak out the rest of my cum.
“It burns, but it feels good,” he murmurs against the pillows. “I wish I could feel more of you.”
Testing the resistance, I inch into him slightly. “Like that?”
“More,” he chokes out.
But I can’t go any more. Not without some sort of lubricant. My dick wants all the way in, but it’s not wet enough and doesn’t move any further.
“Use your cum. Get it wet.”
My dick is still hard. Like I could come again if I tried hard enough. Feels impossible. Maybe after years of not feeling desire, I’m overwhelmed with the need for release after release. With careful movements, I pull out of him. My expended cum oozes out of his red hole. I eagerly scoop it up, smearing it all over my dick. Then, before we can change our minds, I ease back into him.
“Adrian,” he whimpers, fisting the blankets, drawing them to him.
His asshole tightens around me, making me nearly black out.
“Re-relax,” I rumble. “Please.”
He nods and then his body is accepting me, inch by inch. A small sob escapes him, entwining around my heart. Once I’m fully seated inside him, I don’t move my hips. I kiss the shell of his ear and his neck and shoulder. I murmur how fucking perfect he his. How I’ll never let him go. How I’ve never felt such all-consuming need for another person in all my life.
“You’re changing me, Ry,” I whisper, my lips on his shoulder. “And I like it. So fucking much.”
Six
Rylan
Two days later…
Reality is a bitch.
All weekend, I’ve remained in the bossy Mr. Frosty’s bed. Naked. Pleasured beyond belief. Cared for. As much as I’ve loved every second of it, I know it’s all coming to an end. It’s Sunday night and tomorrow we’ll be back to the grind. I’ll do best to remember I’m a weekend fling. Nothing more.
Night purrs from my stomach, his black tail swishing back and forth as he teases his claws out, a subtle threat that he could puncture me with them at any moment. I stroke my palm down his furry spine.
“You want red or white wine?” Adrian asks from the kitchen.
I dart my gaze over to him. He threw on clothes long enough to cook for us, but the moment our meal concludes, he’ll be naked with his mouth back on mine. A thrill shivers down my spine. My ass is sore as hell, but I still yearn to have him inside me. Again and again and again.
“I’m not old enough to drink. You do know I graduated high school like eight months ago,” I tease with a grin. “You robbed the cradle, remember, old man?”
He flips me off. “You’ll get red, kid.”
Kid.
I snort out a laugh. “Are you trying to get me drunk?”
Turning away from the stove, he flashes me a sexy grin that produces a dimple on one cheek. As the weekend wore on, he gifted me more and more of his smiles. Now I wonder what tomorrow will bring. Will he go back to the cold, aloof man from before? Will he treat me differently? I hate that I’ve changed things by agreeing to come here for the weekend. I should have just said no.
But then I’d be saying no to the most incredible weekend of my life.
Everything about Adrian is so intense. The way he stares at me. Kisses me. Makes love to me or fucks me depending on his mood. I’m powerless to stop this hold he has on me.
What happens when he lets go?
The sting of bitter tears burns in my eyes. Night, sensing my mood, scampers off my chest and hops off the bed. I curl onto my side, staring at the photo closest to me on the nightstand.
Dante Kincaid.
I’d asked if it were him last night. Adrian fondly told me stories about his best friend. If I didn’t know better, I’d be jealous of the way he talks about him, especially when I learned Dante was gay. But Adrian only seems to have eyes for me and speaks of Dante in a brotherly way.