And it wasn’t just the sex. Kissing Rory Finn—really kissing him this time—had ruined him for anything else. It was coming home and salted caramel sweets and the dirtiest, most carnal thing he could imagine all at once. Rory’s teeth had left marks and his stubble had left burns on his cheeks and neck.
He fucking loved it all.
A part of him wanted to call Essie like an overexcited teenager and give her an update. But the stronger emotions were too private to share. Too new, and full of a possessive need to hold on to what he’d found here that rocked him to his foundations.
He wasn’t confused or hesitant anymore. Any last doubt had been shoved out to make room for this awareness. This was what he wanted. All of it. From the friendly banter and teasing they’d always known to the naked living-room orgy and everything in between.
His lips were swollen. His skin was tingling from the remembered sensation of mouths and tongues, bruised from masculine fingers and salty with dried sweat, yet he’d never felt more comfortable in it.
This was who he was. Rory’s and Rig’s. And last night he’d realized that Rig had known it for a hell of a lot longer than the rest of them. His admission about that first Spring Break—knowing their true feelings all the way back then—was making him think about his first year of friendship with Rory and how he could have missed the undeniable chemistry he was feeling now.
Senior year as a transfer student could have been awkward. He had longer hair than anyone else, he was a runner and javelin thrower in a school that was all football, all the time. The girls seemed to like him, which ticked the guys who’d staked their claim as freshman off even more. Everyone expected him to play his part as the interesting and mysterious new kid when frankly, he was just trying to graduate because high school anywhere was a big pain in the ass and he was ready to grow up and move on.
He’d seen the overachieving Rory around the halls, but the day they’d really become friends he’d found him fighting in the locker room with a linebacker three times his width and twice his size.
At the time, David didn’t know about Rory’s five older brothers whose roughhousing insured he knew what he was doing. He didn’t know about the gymnastics and self-defense classes Rory took after school that made him practically untouchable. All he knew was that for such a skinny guy, Rory didn’t seem to understand that he was supposed to be afraid.
From the conversation that drifted toward him between insults and punches, it was clear that the football player had just gotten a blowjob he’d initiated, and was trying to pay Rory back by beating him senseless.
That pissed David off, so he stood there in his sweat-soaked shirt and running shorts and made his presence known. With a witness to his crime, the jock got the point fast enough, disappearing with a weak warning while Rory punched his locker and kicked his mascot costume into submission until he’d run out of steam.
Then everything was different. Like changing the channel, Rory took a deep breath and smiled as though nothing was wrong. David was stunned by the transformation. By the humor and intelligence in his eyes and the broad grin that made the bloody lip practically disappear. When he introduced himself as the school’s famous gay mascot and asked if David needed any help getting around, he found himself inviting him to get a cup of coffee and talk.
They’d closed the place down—talking about his sister and his old school, about Rory’s part time job as assistant gymnastics coach and all his favorite books of the moment. About their long-awaited graduation and the latest Nintendo DS. That day their friendship had been born.
Weeks later, when the linebacker came back for seconds, David was ready for him. “Sorry, meathead,” he’d said casually, draping his arm over his best friend’s shoulders before the blond could reply. “Rory’s mine now. And I’m not stupid enough to hide him or let him get away.”
The exaggeration rolled off his tongue easily and with no regrets. David was proud to be Rory’s friend, and at the time he was more interested in college admissions than dating. Plus, he knew if his sister had ever had an asshole like that in her life, he’d want someone to stand up for her.
David could still remember how shocked Rory had been, as if no one had ever defended him before. Something he’d decided had to be his overactive imagination when he’d met Noah and Wyatt Finn.
He’d never seen siblings that close who weren’t twins. They were strong, the same “pretty” handsome as Rory and just as outspoken, both of them more than capable of looking after their youngest brother if they wanted to. And the stories they told about their other three siblings—particularly the giant redhead—solidified his belief. His friend didn’t need outside help or protection, despite his apparent vulnerability. He had an Irish army behind him.
Still, after that incident, Rory became David’s constant companion, and a bond that ran too deep to deny was forged between them. It was one that had lasted through years of enforced collegiate separation, more than one jealous girlfriend and the demands of their very different lives.
If through all their years of friendship, a few things about Rory’s relationship with his family didn’t add up? David brushed it off as unimportant. If it had been a big deal, Rory would have told him about it. He and Rory told each other everything.
That was what he’d believed until Owen and Jeremy’s reception. Until he’d heard the things Sol Finn said to his son and realized Rory wasn’t as surprised as he was. From the expression on his face, the hateful words were nothing new.
But they’d been new to David.
It wasn’t that Rory had never brought his father up in conversation before. But Sol, or Sol the Elder as he called him, was always an offhand comment or a bad father joke more than an actual person.
From that, David had learned that Sol Finn had had multiple children with multiple wives. That he’d been the Chief of Police until he’d retired to let his oldest son and namesake take the job. He knew that his father had been a criminal, so Sol was determined that his sons would keep the family name pristine.
He’d always gotten the impression of a grumpy old man who’d been strict as a single father, but until he heard him lay into Rory, he hadn’t realized he was that aggressively homophobic and cruel.
David clutched Rory’s arm to his chest and inhaled his familiar, sleepy scent as knots tightened in his stomach. He hated the idea of anyone hurting this man beside him. Hated the idea that he hadn’t known about it, that he’d seen the large, handsome family and made the wrong assumptions. He still hadn’t forgiven himself for adding a moment of sadness to Rory’s life by dropping off the map the way he had.
And now he couldn’t help but wonder if that was the only thing he’d done to wrong his best friend. Had he really been too busy basking in the glow of Rory’s attention to wonder why he’d never invited him over to his house? Why David hadn’t met Sol in high school? Why Rory kept his friendships and his supposedly tightknit family so separate?
He needed to know.
His good intentions and dark thoughts scattered like leaves as soon as Rory shifted and slid his impressive erection against his back. Oh fuck, that felt good. Better than he’d imagined, something that seemed impossible a few days ago. “Are you awake, Roar?”
Rory hummed against the back of his neck and nuzzled him affectionately, as if they’d woken up from one of their old naps on the couch…but everything was different now. “Not sure. Did we really…?”
David rocked his hips back, wrapping a fist around his thick erection with a groan. His lack of control should be embarrassing, but with Rory rubbing against him he couldn’t find the will to care.
“Fall asleep on the floor?” he responded weakly. “Since I can’t feel my left thigh, I think that’s a yes. No, wait, don’t stop.”
Rory had started to pull back at his complaint. “You sure? I haven’t counted but I think they have a lot of bedrooms in this place. It’s not called the ménage mansion for nothing. We don’t have to rough it in the l
iving room.”
“We’re not going anywhere.” David couldn’t explain the sudden urgency. He needed. Wanted. His hand left his cock and reached back for Rory’s. “I want to rough it with you. Right here on the floor. Right now.”
“Jesus, David.” Rory pressed his forehead against David’s temple and bit down gently on the lobe of his ear. “I need specifics,” he whispered raggedly. “What exactly are you asking for?”
David’s heart was hammering so loudly he could barely concentrate. What did Rory want to know? “I’ve used plugs,” he said, his breath fast and uneven. “I wanted to make sure I could take it. Take you. There.”
“There?” Fingers dug into his hip and curled around the flesh of his ass. “And could you take it, David? Did you like how it felt?”
“I did when I thought about you,” David admitted, too aroused to blush. “And once, when Rig was on the phone telling me how to—”
Rory’s growl of approval cut him off then he leaned away from David for a heartbeat. When he came back his fingers were coated with thick wetness and he was sliding them along his crack. “Oh God.”
That was incredible. Every nerve in his body reacted to each slide of Rory’s fingertips. It was like he’d been plugged into a damn supernova.
“I know exactly what you need,” Rory murmured, circling and pressing David’s hole in a way that made him quiver. “And I can make you feel a hell of a lot better than a plug, David. Do you really want to know what that’s like? Me inside you? Taking you there?”
Rory pushed one long finger deep and the sound that escaped, along with most of the air in David’s lungs, was animalistic. Needy. “Yes.”
Teeth scraped his shoulder and Rory sucked a mark into his skin, making David smile. Keeps my fangs sharp. His hot breath kept him burning as one graceful digit slid in and out of David’s ass.
“You like this, babe?” Rory added a second finger and growled again when David gasped in surprise. “Is this what you thought about when you slid that plug in? Riding my fingers? My cock? Did you come thinking about me fucking you?”
“Yes. All of it.” David’s voice was hardly recognizable. His hips refused to still as he tried to pull Rory deeper inside him. Deeper. “I’m ready, Rory. I need it. I can take you.”
“Put your leg over mine,” Rory ordered gruffly, the head of his cock already nudging David exactly where he wanted him. Fuck that was amazing. Amazing and not enough.
“Do it, Rory. I want you inside me.”
“You’re killing me, David.”
When he pushed the tip inside, they both groaned.
“Damn it,” Rory swore desperately. “Don’t push back like that. I don’t have a lot of control right now.”
David wasn’t listening. He leaned forward, bracing his hands on the floor and tilting his hips back, taking as much as he could. “Rory. Oh Roar, that’s so good. All these years and you knew. Why didn’t you tell me it felt this good?”
It took Rory a few seconds to catch his breath enough to respond. “If all the men knew, the women would be lonely.”
David huffed into the carpet. “So cocky.”
“You should know,” Rory said as he slung his hips forward, filling David completely. Both men stilled. “Now really don’t move this time. I mean it. I just…need a minute.”
Too many sensations. Too full. Not full enough. Floating and spinning and pinned down beneath a strong, masculine body that was exactly where it belonged. The sensations were overwhelming. So were his emotions.
“Rory,” he murmured, the ache in his voice. “I didn’t know...”
“Shhh.” David jerked when Rory’s hot hand covered his over his erection and squeezed. “Let me, David. Let me take care of you.”
He turned his head, looking up into the brilliant blue eyes that always drew him in. “Kiss me.”
“Anytime.” Rory ducked his head and took David’s mouth, using their joined hands to stroke his erection.
“I love your cock,” Rory sighed between open-mouthed kisses. “Always have.”
“Always?”
“Are you kidding?” Rory’s chuckle sounded like a sigh. “I’ve been wanting to get my hands on this bad boy for years. Dreamed about it. If you knew how often I jerked off just thinking about how it would feel buried inside—” Rory cut himself off with a groan, but he’d gotten David’s attention.
“Inside you?” he said, his throat dry and tight. “I thought you liked it like this.” Rig had told him Rory never bottomed, needing to guide or be in charge at all times. David was more than willing to follow, but the idea of taking Rory almost made him come before they’d even started.
“I love this.” Rory wrapped his free arm around his chest and started to rock deep inside him, as if talking about it made him lose some of his control. “But fuck yeah, I’ve imagined you getting inside me. I don’t do that, David, but you?” Their fingers tangled together around his shaft. “With you, that’s what got me off nearly every time.”
The words sent fiery licks up his spine. “Me too. I want both. I love how you feel inside me right now. I never want it to stop. But when you kissed me the first time, all I could think about was folding you over the nearest hard surface and watching you take every inch of me.” He lowered his voice. “Hearing you beg for all of it.”
He’d always had to be careful. The women he’d dated had never liked his size. The idea of it, sure, but never the reality. But Rory’s reaction was everything he could hope for. David actually felt him getting harder, growing bigger inside him, and Rory’s hand moved to raise his thigh higher and hold him still for his thrusts.
“Every inch, David?” He spoke through teeth clenched tight with desire. “And when I begged for it, did you give me what I needed? Did you fuck me hard with that big cock? Did you make me scream?”
“Fuck,” David cried as Rory’s hips powered against his, the head of his shaft rubbing his prostate in exactly the right way to send him soaring closer to the edge of oblivion.
“Tell me, David. I need to hear you say it. Did you pin me down and stuff me with that monster until I cried out for mercy?”
“Yes! I made you take it,” he moaned. “I made you beg and then I fucked you so hard, Rory.”
“Like this?” Rory demonstrated, his voice gritty with arousal. “Did you fuck me this hard?”
“Harder. Please, I need it.” He wasn’t even sure what he was saying. “I’ve missed you. I need you. Fuck me harder.”
“You’ll be sore.” Rory tried to warn him over the sound of slapping flesh and his broken cries. “I don’t want to hurt you, damn it.”
“I want to feel it. Even when you’re gone, I need to feel you inside me.”
Those were the magic words. “Fuck, David. God, you’re squeezing me so tight. Want to stay inside you for days. Forever.”
David turned his head blindly and they were kissing again as if they’d never get another chance. David sucked on his tongue, absorbing his taste and loving each response Rory gave him.
Rory Finn was out of control. For him. Because of him.
This was how sex was supposed to be. Writhing and sweaty, bodies clinging to each other as the world dropped away and hurled you into space. Everything. It was everything.
He’d never understood until now why people made such a big deal about it.
Now he knew.
“I need you to come,” Rory snarled into his mouth. “I need you to come for me, David. I can’t hold back. Not with you gripping me so fucking… Please, babe.”
That broken plea at the end was all he needed. “Oh God, yes.” He milked his shaft as each new pulse of his climax took him higher, his release pooling on the carpet and coating his hand. He saw spots in front of his damn eyes, he was coming so hard. Jesus, he might actually pass out.
Rory bent David’s leg obscenely wide and high as he reached for his own climax. All David could do was hold on as the rapid pounding jarred him, nearly pushing him across the ru
g. “Fuck, David. I can’t get deep enough. I need to— Fuckfuckfuck.”
He needs this. He needs me. The idea was enough to send another climax-like shiver through his body. “It’s yours, Rory. Take what you need.”
Rory buried his face in David’s hair. “Waited so long.” His whisper was raw and vulnerable, but then he was shouting David’s name seconds later as he buried himself balls deep and let go.
David found himself wishing the condom wasn’t there. He wanted to feel everything Rory did to him. Wanted to be marked and dripping with the proof. In this moment, he didn’t question that, or why everything they did together felt right. After eleven years of living in each other’s pocket, the best sex of his life was just the cherry on top.
This was right. They were right together. Rig, Rory and David was how it was always meant to be.
How could he have been so clueless?
Rory was mumbling incoherently and kissing his forehead, cheek and chin as David came back to earth. “You good?”
Better than good. Better than he’d ever been. “Tired. And my leg is definitely numb now.”
Rory chuckled. “Let’s get you cleaned up and on the couch.”
David floated in semi-consciousness as a cool cloth caressed his skin and he was lifted up to sleep on a cloud. “Rich-man couch is soft,” he praised, petting the cushion like it was a living thing.
“Does sex usually have this effect on you?” Rory asked softly. “Because it’s adorable.”
“I’m never adorable,” David mumbled. “I’m manly and intimidating.”
“Sure you are. Especially when you’re cheering on a super Jedi.”
“Give me a minute for the proper comeback, Captain Awesome. You pounded my brain into pudding.”
He thought Rory said something else but he couldn’t be sure. He wasn’t lying. He needed a minute to pull himself together. Maybe a few days. He had nothing to compare this to. No frame of reference for what just happened. He’d been ridden hard and pleasured within an inch of his life by a man he’d known and adored for years. And if he could feel his legs, he’d want round two right away.
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