Digging Deep

by Jay Hogan

  “You better fuck me now, babe, or this is gonna be all over.”

  He angled his head around my hip and bit down hard on the sensitive skin there, hard enough to leave a mark, and all I wanted was more. I wanted him stamped all over my body, inside and out.

  “No. Not today.”

  I lifted my head and saw the determination in his eyes. “Your call.”

  Drake’s nostrils flared. “Yes, it damn well is. Now let me love you.”

  I could see he was on as much of a knife edge as I was, so I relaxed back onto the mattress and gave myself over. “I’m all yours.”

  He reached for the lube and slicked himself up and lay back down behind me. Then, positioning his dick high into my crease, between my closed thighs, he began a slow slide, in and out, nudging my hole―not enough to breach, just sufficient to nestle the head of his dick―and then through to the back of my balls in a tantalising slippery glide that drove me fucking insane.

  It was all I could do not to slam myself back onto him, but the ache in my side from all the muscle tension reassured me he’d made the right call. I wasn’t ready. But this? This was fucking magic and everything I needed all wrapped up in a Drake-sized parcel that was blowing my goddamn mind.

  “Shh. I got you, babe,” he whispered against the skin of my back. “Gonna make it good.”

  He angled his hand farther over my hip, careful to avoid my wound, and wrapped it around my dick, giving a few long strokes as he rocked in and out of my tight thighs. Each nudge pushed my swollen cock forward through his grasp, and each release drew me back onto his just-out-of-reach dick. It was the most luscious torture. I was sure I could come on this alone, and when on the next slide back his flared head just barely caught and stretched my opening in the most intoxicating tease, I barely held on by a broken thread.

  “Jesus, Caleb,” he hummed against my back, kissing his way across my shoulders. Caught up in the glorious sensations rippling through my body, I groaned my approval. I wanted to turn and catch his lips, but the position and my healing wound made that damn near impossible. Next time.

  He slid a finger inside me, keeping up with the rocking glide he had still going on between my thighs and when he grazed my prostate, I damn near growled.

  “Argh, right there.”

  He chuckled, ramped things up a notch, and the sound that came out of my mouth was of porn-star quality. I wasn’t normally a noisy lover, preferring to softly grunt it out, but holy shit, something about Drake pulled every filthy thought out of my head and gave it voice.

  I flung the pillow aside and grabbed for purchase on the sheets to hold me more solidly in place so my wound didn’t get over-stretched. Drake was right. Being on my side was much easier, but we weren’t exactly going at snail’s pace now. Not that I wanted to. I was so hungry for him. With his hand still wrapped around my dick, providing a tight slide in and out, and the way he was grinding along my taint, I wasn’t gonna last. In seconds my balls drew tight against my body and a warm buzz set in at the base of my spine.

  “Gonna come,” I warned.

  “Do it.” He gripped me a little tighter, angling his finger just so, and I tipped over, tumbling into white heat and a surge of ecstasy that rocked through my body in a cascade of pleasure. I stuttered some gibberish into the mattress as my body arched into the feeling, just as Drake drove into his own release with a full-body shudder, biting down on my shoulder with a loud groan.

  Neither of us moved a muscle as waves of pleasure slowly eased into a boneless sated peace. And when Drake’s softening dick slid from between my thighs, I had the ridiculous urge to shove it back and lock the damn door.

  “Holy fuck, Caleb,” he huffed, pulling me onto my back so he could snuggle up against my good side. “We need to bag and tag that shit. I think you broke my goddamn dick.”

  I choked out a laugh. “Your dick? What about my balls? They’re gonna need some serious TLC tomorrow.”

  He grabbed them lightly in his hand and grinned down at me. “I’ll be all over that. Just say the word, detective.” A crease formed between his brows. “You okay?”

  I reached up and kissed him. “Never better. You?”

  He burrowed his head back into my side. “Same.”

  We lay in silence for a minute or two, my hand stroking circles on his furnace of a back. The man could melt an ice-bed in an igloo without drawing breath.

  “We could’ve taken it slow… er,” he said.

  I snorted, though it came out more like a squeak because, well… balls in hand. “Ah, no. I was there, remember?”

  He cracked a smile and let my balls drop.

  “I take your point,” he said with a lopsided grin. “This time. But we wait for more till you’re fully cleared, understand? I can show… restraint.”

  I simply raised my brows.

  He shrugged. “Oh, and don’t think I missed the part where your doctor’s gay.” He scowled. “Is he hot?”

  I fanned myself dramatically. “I can’t even begin to tell you.”

  He whacked me on the arm. “I’m coming to your next appointment.” He was serious.

  I grinned. “Knock yourself out. But just so you know….” I rolled onto my side and kissed him on the nose. “There is no one I want in my life or my bed other than you, Drake Park. So get that into that sweet head of yours, right this minute.”

  His eyes went wide with pleasure, and I drew his lower lip into my mouth and sucked softly on it before sliding my tongue alongside his and taking my fill of his taste. He groaned into my mouth and wriggled, growing hard against my thigh. My own dick, of course, surged to meet him.

  Then he pulled back and put a finger to my lips. “Bloody hell, Caleb. If we keep this up, I’m gonna have you down my throat in two seconds flat, and I think twice with no break would definitely classify as monkey sex. Bathroom. Now.”

  He was right. “Share a shower?” I tried to look hopeful.

  He snorted. “Yeah, right, like that’s a good idea. No. Two bathrooms, one apiece, then back here. Got it?”

  I blew out a sigh. “Spoilsport.”

  He grinned and bounced off the bed, swanning that sweet little arse all the way to the en suite, with a pause to check over his shoulder to make sure I was watching. Of course I was bloody watching, one hand on my dick keeping time with every swish.

  When he saw what I was up to, he smiled wickedly.

  “Just keeping it warm,” I told him.

  He made a show of running his hands slowly down the length of his body, and when he added a sinuous wiggle of his hips for good measure, I nearly ran him to the floor right there and then.

  “Fucking tease.”

  “It’s not teasing when it’s a bona fide offer.” He winked and shut the bathroom door.

  I gripped the sheets so I wouldn’t high-tail it after him and shamelessly beg to be fucked face down over the vanity. Except, wound, yeah. I was gonna need more vitamins.

  TEN MINUTES later I was back in bed with an armful of warm Drake, replete and boneless, snuggled alongside.

  “I am sorry for not calling sooner,” I repeated. “But I’m not sure we would have been on the same page, if I had.”

  He kissed my chest. “True.”

  “And if I’d walked away, I’d have regretted it the rest of my life. I promise to do everything in my power to make us work.” He sucked my nipple into his mouth and I jumped.

  “So, just like a normal relationship, then.”

  I laughed. “Where is the Drake Park who said he couldn’t have a normal relationship?”

  He blushed… again. “I know, right? But I’ve done some thinking too….” His gaze wandered to my mouth.

  I licked my lips and watched his pupils flare. Encouraged, I trailed a hand down his back to cup his arse, and he wriggled deliciously against me.

  “I, ah, I realised that Jared would always have split on me—” He rocked his hips into me with a groan. “—even if he had known what he was getting into bec
ause….”

  His eyes hadn’t left my mouth, so I nudged a finger into his crease and rested it over his hole, no pressure, just presence, and his eyes fluttered shut.

  “Ugh. Can you… stop that?” He dropped his head and sighed against my neck. “I can’t think while you’re….”

  “Of course.” I removed my hand and he opened his eyes in time for me to push my thigh hard against his rapidly filling dick.

  “Oh, great. Good alternative there. Super.” He glared but made no effort to move other than lifting a finger to trace along my jawline.

  I smirked. “Okay, so why would Jared still have split?”

  He blinked. “What? Oh, because he’s a jerk. Always was and always will be. And you’re… not.” He arched back into my thigh, eliciting a rough groan from my throat.

  “High praise,” I said.

  “Oh shut up, you know what I mean.” He nestled his nose into my armpit and gave it a good lick, which had me wriggling.

  “I do. So can we move on from the taking-a-breather shit and back to the hot makeup-sex part?” I leaned over to nibble at his ear.

  He lifted his head and pushed me back a little way. “Before that, you do understand I might still have to have surgery, now or down the track? I may need—”

  “To take it one day at a time, right? Like a normal relationship.”

  He grinned against my lips. “Yeah, like a normal relationship.”

  I kissed him exceedingly thoroughly till we both needed to come up for air.

  “Anyway,” he said. “I thought we’d already had the makeup-sex part?” His hand trailed south and wrapped around me.

  I pulled him on top and looked him in the eye. “That was just the opening act, sweetheart. I have a piece of real estate south of my dick with a Drake-sized hole in it just begging to be owner-occupied. You keen to risk some capital in that particular fixer-upper?”

  He grinned wickedly. “I hear it’s a good time to buy. The market is soft, Mr Ashton, ripe for… investment.”

  Epilogue

  Six months later

  Drake

  SUNLIGHT BRUSHED the curtain of my eyelids, its warmth blanketing my face, enticing but way, way too soon. Ugh. Morning. Every bone in my body ached.

  A weight pressed down on my hips. Shit. That damn cat. Caleb was gonna kill me. With three legs and a ton of sass, the two-year-old tabby had stolen his heart at the shelter just over a month ago, but the feisty, street-smart stray was proving a handful. She’d adjusted surprisingly well to regular food and a warm bed, rarely venturing outside, but remained stubbornly suspicious of the cat door we’d installed, refusing outright to use it, preferring her litter tray and a bed in the laundry.

  So be it. We could live with that. But Caleb’s, our, furniture was taking a bit of a hammering as Lotty had also taken an instant dislike to her scratching post, opting for the sides of Caleb’s couch instead. To moderate the damage, we locked her away in the laundry at night, and last night it had been my job. Dammit.

  Reaching down to push the animal off my stomach, I came to an abrupt halt when I hit hair. Hair, not fur, and attached to a much larger body than expected. A body covered in acres of searing hot, naked skin. A body with one surprisingly agile tongue, currently licking a path from my hips to… ugh… there….

  Moist heat engulfed my half-filled cock, and my head fell back on the pillow. “Jesus, Caleb. That better be you and not the cat, or you might be packing your things if she’s that good.”

  He pulled off. “What the…?”

  I pushed his head back down. “Focus.”

  He did, wrapping that skilful tongue around my dick, sucking, teasing, and swallowing me down like his life depended on it. In a few seconds, I was as hard as nails. Not long after and I was almost ready to blow. I fought the urge, wanting to prolong that delicious dual sensation of the heat of his mouth and the swirl of his tongue. Pushing up on my elbows, I watched him work, captivated by the sight of those glorious lips wrapped around me. All mine.

  With his pupils blown with desire, Caleb reached his free hand to my mouth, and I sucked in two of those tricky little numbers, slicking them up. Keeping his mouth working my dick, he shuffled between my legs and slid those suckers behind my balls, pressing lightly against my hole. I was so close to the edge, I nearly lost it right then and there, the sheets fisted in my hands to keep me grounded.

  He sensed my struggle and paused, giving me a second to regroup, while I contemplated the, huh, full-length mirror hanging directly opposite. That was new. He caught the shift in attention and moved a little to the side and… holy shit… there he was in full living colour, arse up, head buried in my groin, my cock in his mouth, and his fingers pressed against me.

  The image burned in my brain. And not just because it was hot as hell. The whole picture was oddly symbolic of who we were, and I almost couldn’t breathe as reality hit. This was me, us, a future I’d never thought possible with a gorgeous, sexy boyfriend who loved all of me and didn’t give a damn about the vagaries of my Crohn’s as long as he was with me. A man who made me laugh more than I’d ever thought possible about things that should have buried me in tears. A man who’d taught me to risk being loved. Who sometimes took my cranky moods and pissy attitude with nary a shrug, and other times called me on that shit, and who never, ever let me push him away, ’cause, yeah, I still struggled with the whole letting-people-help thing, and as it turned out, love wasn’t a cure for arsehole behaviour. Who’d have guessed?

  He looked over his shoulder and we locked eyes in the mirror. He smirked as if he’d been reading my thoughts, winked, and slid a finger just far enough home, watching my expression all the while.

  “Yeeeesss.” My head fell back, and I slumped on the pillow just as Caleb’s finger grazed my prostate on a second pass and my cock disappeared down the back of his throat. I bucked up, lodging myself even farther into that wet heat, and came undone with a shout, waves of pleasure flooding my body.

  He held in place and swallowed every mouthful until my body couldn’t take any more and collapsed on the mattress. Then he pulled off, cleaning my cock with his tongue before kissing his way up my chest to close his mouth over mine, plunging my taste into every corner he could reach. Holding his head, I gave as good as I got, hungry for everything he offered, not sure I would ever get enough.

  “Holy fuck,” I panted as he rolled off to the side and draped an arm across my waist, both of us slick with sweat. “You do realise you’ve set the benchmark in our new bed. I’m gonna expect that every morning.”

  “Our bed,” he hummed approvingly. “I like the sound of that.” He kissed my shoulder. “And it’s not like that would be a hardship, just so you know.”

  I kissed his forehead, licking at the salt. “Yeah, well, I see no problem from this side either. Speaking of which, it’s my turn, I believe.” I moved to roll him to his back, but he pushed my hand away.

  “Later,” he said. “That was just for you. Call it a housewarming present.”

  I snorted, eyeing the mountain of unopened boxes lining the bedroom wall, the cause of my aching limbs, and sighed. Minimalist, I was not.

  “And the blow job in the kitchen last night? Not to mention the spectacular hand job you gave me in the shower afterwards?”

  He laughed and groped me shamelessly. “It’s your own fault for being so damn sexy. What can I say? One look and my cock stands to attention.”

  I narrowed my gaze. “Which reminds me, a mirror, Mr Ashton? Really?”

  He swiped my nipple with his tongue. “You complaining?”

  After rolling to my side, I cradled his face and lingered over a kiss. “Hell no. That shit was sexy as fuck. I can’t wait to watch you own my arse in that thing.”

  He grinned and nuzzled into my hair, breathing a contented sigh. It was his favourite spot, and he was always hauling me in for a cuddle or kiss just so he could end up with his nose buried there. I’d taken to washing my hair every day with his favou
rite shampoo just to tempt him.

  “Soon,” he whispered against my neck. “No rush.”

  I was still only six weeks postsurgery, and although the bowel resection had been high and small enough not to require a bag, we both knew I wouldn’t be so lucky if there was a next time. I hadn’t flared again since the hospital stay, but my colon just hadn’t healed well enough to get me back to a decent eating regime.

  In the end, a resection had been the only choice. It was the right decision. I’d healed nicely and was back to my usual diet and starting to gain weight, but we were still being cautious—the main reason I’d taken so long to move in. We’d talked about it months ago but agreed I was best in my own surroundings till everything settled, keeping the stress low. Not that it had stopped Caleb spending nearly every night at mine, and I fucking loved it.

  For his part, Caleb too, had healed well. His one remaining kidney had never looked back from day one, functioning beautifully. He did, however, continue to struggle with the odd headache and concentration problems from the concussion. He was up for more scans to try to nail the source. It hadn’t seemed that bad an injury at the time but the brain was a funny thing. You just never knew.

  “I’m kind of hoping to watch you own my arse first,” Caleb added with a leer.

  A shiver ran the length of my skin and my dick perked up. Of course it did. Topping Caleb had become one of my new all-time favourite things to do, and I’d had plenty of recent practice.

  Presurgery jitters—the surgeons not knowing exactly what they would need to do prior to opening me up—followed by the postsurgery recovery had all put a lid on any sexy times between us for a month or so. We’d been making up for it ever since. I still had off days discomfort-wise, if my Crohn’s was tickled up for some reason, but overall, I was hopeful I was heading for another remission. None of that seemed to matter to Caleb who just went with the flow, stepping up the cuddles and alternative affection in direct proportion to what the bedroom might lack, so we both got plenty closeness and skin time one way or another. Just as importantly, he kept out of my face on bad days, leaving me to sort myself out as I was used to doing and only stepping in if he needed to.