by L. A. Witt
“Oh yeah?”
“Mmhmm.” He skated his lips down the underside of my cock, driving a moan out of me, and murmured, “I think I’d go with something closer to ‘begging.’”
Oh. Fuck.
I squirmed, trying to get a grip on his short hair as he kept teasing me with his mouth. “Keep talking like that and doing what you’re doing, and I’m gonna come before I get a chance to—oh God.”
“Mmm, can’t have that.” He pushed himself up on his arms, and as soon as he started to come back toward me, I lifted myself up, slung an arm around his neck, and kissed him.
Together we sank back to the bed, all tangled up and kissing like before but even more urgently now.
“You have condoms?” Elliott panted.
“Yeah. Nightstand. Lube too.”
He groaned softly and kissed me again. “Want me on my hands and knees?”
It was tempting, but… No. “On your back.”
The shiver said he was onboard with that.
Neither of us was in a tremendous hurry to stop what we were doing, though. The thought of being inside him turned me on like mad, but so did this. If we skipped the penetration altogether and just made out and touched each other for the rest of the night, I wouldn’t have complained at all.
“You said you don’t like it rough, right?” he asked after a while.
I nodded.
“Good. I mean, I do sometimes, but…” He gave a little self-conscious laugh. “I haven’t been topped by someone as thick as you in a long time. So, uh, go easy?”
“We don’t have to.” I caressed his face. “If you don’t—”
“No. No, I do.” He took my hand and pressed a warm kiss to my palm. “I definitely want you. Just take it slow at first.”
“Definitely.” I grinned. “I always do anyway. To tease.”
Elliott shivered, biting his lip.
“Maybe I should get a condom?”
He nodded without hesitation and eased off me. “Yeah. Get one now.”
I grinned, sliding a hand down his chest. “Making you beg is gonna be easy, isn’t it?”
“With what you’re packing?” He trailed his fingertip along my dick. “You better believe it.”
I gave his cock a gentle stroke, grinning even bigger when he moaned. “You’re not exactly lacking in this department yourself.”
He just exhaled and pushed against my hand. I kissed him again, and stroked him, and once again, we weren’t getting any closer to a condom. I didn’t mind, though. He didn’t seem to either. Then he was stroking me too, and we just kissed and teased each other for the longest time. Right up until I was this close to saying fuck it and letting him jerk me off.
Breathing hard, I broke the kiss and nudged his hand away. “Get… Get on your back. I’ll grab a condom.”
Elliott rolled onto his back. I didn’t dare look at him as I pulled the condom and lube from the drawer, or we’d just end up kissing and groping again, and if I didn’t fuck him right this minute, I was going to burst into flames.
Despite my shaking hands, I got the condom on without too much trouble. Then I turned.
Oh God, yes. That was the most gorgeous thing I’d seen in ages—Elliott, stretched out on my bed, thighs parted and his hand lazily stroking his cock. At this rate, I would be the one who started begging.
I knelt between his thighs, and his hand kept sliding slowly up and down his shaft while I lubed up my own. I slid my hand between his cheeks, and he closed his eyes and gasped as my fingertips grazed his hole.
“When you say it’s been a while”—I made gentle circles—“how long are we talking about?”
“Um.” He bit his lip again. “I think—oh, yeah.” He trailed off into a sigh as I pressed in a fingertip.
“C’mon.” I grinned, sliding it free. “You can answer while I’m fingering you, can’t you?”
“I—” He gasped as I pressed in again.
“If I can talk while you’re blowing me”—I slid my finger deeper—“you can talk now.”
He grumbled something that was probably along the lines of “fuck you, you bastard.” I just laughed and started working in a second finger, which just made him squirm even more.
“You still haven’t answered my question.” I had a steady rhythm now, fingering him smoothly as he slowly relaxed. “How long has it been?”
Elliott licked his lips. “Few months since I’ve bottomed. Years since it was with…” He gestured at my cock. “Something that big.”
I grinned. I was about to make him answer another question, but he spoke first.
“Just fuck me. Please. I can… Take it slow, and I’m good.”
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t.” He shook his head. “I just really want your cock. Now.”
My lips parted. Teasing was fine and good, but the hunger in his voice—the hunger for me to fuck him—was irresistible. Even if he was a stranger, and this was a pity fuck, and he was just saying what he knew would turn me on and stroke my ego, the fact was I hadn’t heard a man say he wanted me—or my dick or anything else—in far too long.
I slid my fingers free, and as I guided myself in, he spread his legs wider. He barely made a sound as I pushed into him, but his face was hardly blank. His eyes were shut tight, his lips apart, and the soft little moan he released gave me goose bumps.
He’d asked me to go slow, so I did, just sliding the head of my cock in and out until he’d relaxed. When I was sure he could handle more, I gave him more, and the throaty “oh fuck” almost made me come right then and there.
And then he opened his eyes.
Gazing up at me, he ran his hands up my chest and purred, “You feel so good.”
I just moaned, trying not to lose it as I worked my cock deeper inside him.
“C’mere,” he breathed. His fingers curved around the back of my neck, and as he drew me down, he lifted himself onto his elbow to meet me halfway, and we came together in a long, spine-tingling kiss. As he sank back to the bed, he took me with him. In this position, it was harder to move my hips, but I wasn’t complaining. Not when he was kissing me like that.
Elliott was probably intimidating to a lot of people. He was a bouncer, after all. Muscles. Tattoos. A don’t fuck with me scowl when he was at work. But here in my bed? Kissing me while I slowly fucked him? He was impossibly gentle and sweet.
Sweet. That was what it was. What I’d been missing. Sex that was sweet. Like he wanted me to feel good, not just get him off.
I slid a hand behind his head and deepened the kiss as I rocked my hips a little faster. I did feel good—I felt fantastic—and I absolutely wanted to get him off. Maybe this was a pity fuck for him, but it wouldn’t be a half-assed one for me.
Elliott broke the kiss and moaned. “Oh God, yeah. That’s… Oh yeah.” He let go of my neck and reached between us, and as he started pumping his own cock, he clenched around me.
A full-body shudder pushed me forward, and we both grunted as I forced myself all the way in.
“Yeah,” he breathed. “Yeah, like that. Just like that.”
I picked up speed and made sure every thrust was as deep as he could take me. It wasn’t rough—not violent or bruising—but fast and frantic, and he egged me on with moans and curses and the way he rocked his hips in time with mine, and my orgasm was closing in so fast I could barely breathe, and—
Elliott cried out and arched under me. He was impossibly tight now, pumping his dick so fast he was shaking, and then semen spurted on his abs and chest, and the whole picture was unbearably hot—that gorgeous man, so turned on, coming on his beautiful tattooed torso, all while he was taking my cock and begging me not to stop? Oh fuck, yes.
I shuddered and kept thrusting, and then the whole world seemed to explode. I buried myself as deep in him as I could and closed my eyes as I came with more force than I ever remembered coming.
Then I sank down onto his chest.
And he wrapped
his arms around me.
And everything was perfect.
Chapter 5
Elliott
What the fuck just happened?
As I watched Samir step out to take care of the condom, my head spun, and not just from that insane orgasm. How the hell had we gone from me running interference while he broke up with his boyfriend to…this?
Not that I was complaining, of course. The sex had been amazing. Considering I hadn’t been laid in a while, no, I definitely wasn’t complaining.
But could a man be in a more vulnerable place than in the aftermath of what must’ve been a long-overdue breakup? My attraction to Samir didn’t give me a right to take advantage of him. The fact that he’d initiated it didn’t mean he was in a good place for it. Should I have been the level-headed one and put the kibosh on it? Or…?
Fuck. What did I do?
Samir came back and eased himself down onto the bed beside me. As he did, we looked at each other, and the question was in his eyes too.
No really—what just happened?
“So, um.” I cleared my throat. “That was unexpected.”
“Yeah.” His cheeks colored. “Not, uh, part of the agenda when I asked you to come tonight.” He winced. “I mean, when I asked you to…”
“It’s okay. I know what you meant.”
He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “For what it’s worth, it was…” He turned to me, and a shy smile crept onto his lips. “Best sex I’ve had in a long time.”
I laughed. “Yeah. Me too. But it, I mean, I can’t imagine this was the best timing for you.”
“I don’t know.” Samir lay on his back, one hand behind his head as he stared up at the ceiling. “Kind of feels like it’s exactly what I needed.”
“Really?”
He nodded. Gaze still fixed on the ceiling, he said, “I’ve been in relationship hell for the last five years. There was Jesse, and there was another asshole before him.”
My gut clenched. Two men had mistreated him? What the fuck?
He swallowed hard. “And both times, it took me forever to leave even after I realized they were abusive, because they’d convinced me I’d never find anyone else. I stuck it out with them because…” Samir closed his eyes and exhaled. “Because I was afraid of being alone.”
“Jesus.”
“Yeah. And…” He turned to me. “I guess it’s just good to feel desirable again. Even if it’s just a one-time thing.”
It doesn’t have to be.
I quickly shoved that thought right back where it came from. Not going there. No way.
I swallowed. “Whatever they told you, they were wrong.” I rolled onto my side and slid closer. When he didn’t flinch away from me, I draped my arm across his stomach. “I know it’s probably a lot easier for me to say, but…you’re plenty desirable.”
He smiled, and the hint of shyness was adorable on him, especially after I’d just watched him in the gorgeous throes of wanton lust. He lifted his head and pressed a soft kiss to my lips. “Thank you.”
“Thank you.” I grinned. “Tonight was, uh, a lot more fun than I expected.”
He laughed. “Yeah. Ditto. I—”
Both cats suddenly appeared on the side of the bed, startling me so hard I nearly tumbled off the other side.
Samir smirked. “Really, guys?” He scratched the scruff of the one nearest to him. “Do I need to put you in your playroom or something?”
I chuckled, pretending my heart wasn’t going a million miles an hour, and offered my hand for one of the cats to sniff. “They like to get right in the middle of things, don’t they?”
“Yeah, but they don’t usually—” He tensed. The hand on the cat’s scruff slowed, and something darkened in his eyes.
“What’s wrong?”
He was quiet for a moment, then exhaled and started to come back to life. Watching his hand as he scratched his cat’s back, he nearly whispered, “They don’t usually come in while Jesse and I are…” His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Didn’t. They didn’t usually come in while we were in here.”
The hairs on my neck stood on end. I didn’t know what to say.
Samir shook himself. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be a downer. Anyway.” He scratched behind the ears of the nearest cat. “And hey, trust my boys to crash the party.”
I wanted to tell him he was hardly being a downer—and he was certainly justified in having some emotions right now—but I followed his lead. “So, Bengals? You said they get into shit?”
“Oh God.” He rolled his eyes. “I knew they were a handful, but I had no idea what I was getting myself into.”
“How did you end up with two?”
“Their breeder was a longtime client of mine. Real nice lady.” He absently petted the bigger cat—Mehrang—as he went on, “About the time these two were weaned, she was diagnosed with inoperable cancer, so I promised I’d help her find good homes for the cats. I ended up fostering these guys and just kind of fell in love with them, so I kept them.”
“Was that before or after you found out they were holy terrors?”
Samir laughed. I wondered if he knew how gorgeous he was when he laughed. He twirled the end of Nima’s long tail around his finger. “Oh, they were holy terrors as soon as their eyes were open. But I couldn’t resist. And they also bonded with Shouka, so I couldn’t separate them.”
“Wait, your kittens bonded with your rottweiler?”
“Yep.” He grimaced. “I wasn’t sure how she’d be around cats, and I did everything I could to keep them all separated, but then one day while I was at work, they got out of their room. I came home and found them sleeping on her. Both of them. On her.”
“Really?” I laughed. “That must’ve been a sight.”
“One that about gave me a heart attack, yeah.”
“And they still get along?”
“Oh yeah. I mean, she’s a big teddy bear anyway.” He paused, and under his breath, added, “Unless you’re Jesse.”
“He sort of brings out the asshole in all of us,” I muttered.
Samir ran the backs of his fingers up and down my chest. “He kind of does, yeah.” Our eyes locked for a second. Then he cleared his throat. “Aside from him, though, Shouka is basically a marshmallow. I mean, she lets them”—he gestured at the cats—“eat her food right out from under her.”
“Little dicks.”
“Told you they were handfuls.” He ruffled Mehrang’s head, and the cat took a swat at him. “Hey! Easy, shithead.” The cat glared at him, the very picture of indignation. “Feisty fucker.”
Chuckling, I decided to test the water a little. “So, like owner, like cats.”
He laughed just the way he had a moment ago, and dear God, I could get seriously hooked on that sound. He elbowed me playfully. “Hey! Watch it.”
“What?” I grinned. “I’m just saying.”
“Uh-huh.” He slid closer. “I haven’t heard you complaining about me being a handful, though.”
“Can’t say I’ve had any reason to.” I ran my fingertips down his abs, and the muscles contracted under my touch. “But hey, I’m listening if you’ve got any.”
“Oh yeah?” He curved his hand over my hip. Then he glanced at the cats and snapped his fingers. They jumped down, but not before—I swore—they rolled their eyes. Facing me again, he grinned. “There. Much better.”
“Yep, looks like we’ve got your bed all to ourselves. What should we—”
He kissed me. Hell, he straight up tackled me.
And I didn’t protest at all.
~*~
I winced as I set down the dumbbell I’d been lifting. This was my warm-up, for God’s sake. Forty-five pound dumbbell curls were easy.
Well, they were easy when I hadn’t been up all night with someone as insatiable as Samir. Good thing it wasn’t leg day.
I glanced at my reflection in the gym’s floor to ceiling mirrors, and yep, I was grinning like an idiot again. Schooling my expression�
�or trying to—I broke eye contact with myself and concentrated on stretching my sore arms.
It had crossed my mind that I might leave Samir’s house with a few marks and maybe some stiffness. After all, kicking out an abusive boyfriend had the potential to get violent. That was why I’d been there.
Aching and throbbing all over because Samir had the stamina of a damn marathon runner? Totally not what I’d expected.
Not that I was complaining.
A hulking shape appeared next to me, and I looked up as Casey dabbed his shaved head with a towel.
“Hey,” he said. “Thought you were working last night.”
“Liam gave me the night off at the last minute.” I rolled my aching shoulders. “Had, uh, something to take care of.”
“Ah. Well, you missed an exciting evening.”
That’s debatable.
“Yeah? What did I miss?”
“You know that fucker Liam kicked out the other night? The one who was getting stupid with his boyfriend?”
My blood turned cold. “What about him?”
“Idiot showed up.” Casey laughed as he wiped sweat off his thick neck. “Tried to come at Liam sideways. Did not go over well, let me tell you.”
I gulped. “So, what happened? The cops grab him?”
Casey scowled and shook his head. “When he got there, Julien and I were busy with a couple of drunks who didn’t want to keep their clothes on.”
I tried to laugh. That happened a lot, and it was one of the funnier things we dealt with.
“Anyway.” Casey sighed. “I guess he came in, started hollering at the bartenders and then at Liam, and as soon as Liam told Chris to call the cops, he bolted.”
“Damn it.”
“Well, hopefully he isn’t stupid enough to come back.” Casey gestured at the weight bench next to mine. “Anybody using that one?”
“No, I don’t think so.”
“Good. I’m going to grab it.”
While he arranged his towel and water bottle, I picked up the dumbbells I’d been using and started another set. My concentration was shot, and I struggled to count my reps.
