I reached down between us and grasped his leaking cock, pumping my fist at the same interval as I shoved into his ass, relentless, not letting the pressure lessen even for a second, feeling him shudder and clench but too far gone to do anything but ride him. My name had never sounded better than when he yelled it hoarsely as he splattered my chest with cum.
I was seconds behind him, filling him up, pulsing deep inside, frozen as my orgasm washed through me almost painfully. There were those times when us together in bed was gentle, slow, or fast and dirty. This was neither. Ian needed to be claimed, marks upon him, and we were both sticky with cum, slick with lube and sweat, and utterly, utterly sated and spent.
When my arms gave out, he caught me and gathered me close, nuzzling my damp hair, kissing over my forehead, brows, eyes, nose, and finally taking my mouth. But the kisses weren’t devouring and ravenous anymore, instead tender, deep, and possessive.
As he rolled me to my back, he gently eased off the end of my cock, the gush of fluid between us making me groan as Ian hovered over me, smiling wickedly.
“What?” I chuckled as he kissed over my jaw and down the side of my throat, pressing kiss after kiss there, sucking on my skin.
“You taste good.”
I grunted, replete and happy, sliding one hand up and down his bicep, slipping the other over his ass, rubbing.
“Really? You can’t leave my ass alone?”
I inhaled deeply, getting that musk of sex and sweat and traces of Ian’s shampoo and the lingering scent of gun oil from when he sat on the bed and cleaned his Sig the night before.
“God I’m starving,” he said into the soothing lull between us. “You wanna sandwich?”
I chuckled because he was adorable. Needs met, he was ready to go on to the next thing on his list. “I’m glad I rate before food.”
“Well, yeah,” he teased matter-of-factly, giving me a quick kiss before he rolled out of bed, fluid, boneless, with the powerful grace of a man in absolute awareness of his body because he depended on his strength and athleticism to keep him alive.
Lying there alone, just breathing, listening to him rattling around in the kitchen, I couldn’t remember ever feeling more content.
“Do you want one?” he yelled up.
“No,” I called, smiling as I heard him talking to the different deli meat in our kitchen, asking what kind he wanted. Ian was a big sandwich guy, so I always made sure we had stuff for him to make one.
“Is this cheese Ossau?” he asked.
“Yes, dear.”
“You cut off the outside for me?”
“I did.”
“And you cut it into thin slices?”
I laughed softly because he was pretty fucking cute. “I most certainly did.”
“Such a thoughtful man,” he said to himself.
A few minutes later, he rejoined me, carrying a bottle of water for me under his arm, one for him, and a monster sandwich, including a dill pickle and potato chips.
“Did you not eat at all?”
He shrugged, and since that could go either way, I let it go and turned back to the TV in the corner of our room that I had flipped on while he was downstairs.
When I lived there alone, there was only the one in the living room, but Ian convinced me that cuddling in bed together, under the covers, me asleep on him while he watched a movie, would be his third favorite thing in the world. Kissing was first, sex was second, and hugging and spooning rounded out his top three. After that it went to things that included deadly force.
I was just channel surfing, drinking water, and wasting time as Ian ate, finally giving up and switching to Netflix.
“No, don’t do that,” he said, taking the controller away from me and turning off the TV before he wiped his face on the paper towel, took a gulp of water, and put his empty plate down on the nightstand.
“Really? You’re just gonna leave that there?”
“There’s crumbs on it, Jones,” he said, lying down beside me and nestling close, then gently biting my cheek. “Ain’t gonna bother nothin’.”
A part of it was his voice, the husky rumble of his, and some of it was his warm skin touching mine, but mostly it was just Ian, close to me, that sent a shiver of heat swimming through me.
“Hey, listen,” he rumbled in my ear, reaching between my legs to graze his fingers over my flaccid shaft. “I was serious before. I don’t want you to ever think I take you for granted, so let’s not go out without each other anymore.”
“I know you like to spend time with those guys from SOG, so it’s okay if—”
“No, it’s not. It’s not okay because I like spending time with you best.”