I'll Be Your Last

by Jane Leopold Quinn

  And Mack found himself wanting these things. “Should I do it, Kiki? Should I?” Why was he asking the dog? She’d probably love to have another human to cavort with. Mack shuddered. Isn’t that what normal people wanted, too?

  He watched her settle down in her dog bed set in the all-important, well-traveled spot where the kitchen met the living room. She circled three times, then curled up, snout resting on paws, eyes watching him as if she understood. Kiki wouldn’t let her bed be moved, even though Mack often tripped over it if he wasn’t paying attention. She was comfortable with her routine. So was he, right? After all, how does a guy change the habits of a lifetime? Life with another man wasn’t in his plans. He wanted the guy, sure. There was no doubt of that.

  Taking him, watching him in arousal and climax…Mack clenched his fists. His cock swelling, he closed his eyes. Leaning his head dizzily back on the doorframe, he gripped himself through his jeans and squeezed. Why not just go somewhere for a hookup? Woody’d made it clear he wasn’t into transient sex.

  But Woody admitted to wanting him. His face heated with the vision of eating Woody’s cock, of watching his fingers push inside his asshole. Yeah, he fucked other guys, but he didn’t take his time to indulge in arousing them to a fever pitch. Every one of Woody’s moans and squirms satisfied him. He was proud of giving this wonderful man pleasure. It felt new to him. Fresh. To feel Woody pushing back, taking more of his penis, to hear Woody’s orders and 76

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  pleas, then his fractured cries made his own climax more deeply profound.

  Damn, but he was tired of thinking about this.

  As if he couldn’t, or wouldn’t, stop himself, he made the decision.

  After feeding and walking Kiki, he drove slowly down Woody’s street, knowing he was giving into his—his weakness. Feeling like a stalker, he surveyed the other houses on the street, some dark, some with lights. It was the kind of neighborhood that watched for strangers and trouble. They were probably checking his car out, writing down his license plate number. He pulled to the curb across the street from Woody’s house. No lights were showing from the windows. Maybe he’d been headed for a hookup himself. This is ridiculous. I shouldn’t be sitting out here freezing my ass off and looking like a lovesick calf.

  Just when he cranked the engine, but before he flicked the headlights on, a lamp went on inside the house. The front door opened. Woody stood in the doorway staring across the narrow street.

  Busted. Woody closed the storm door and leaned against the outside, his arms crossed over his chest.

  Mack had to decide. Leave or stay. Drive off or go inside. With Woody. He couldn’t see the kid’s eyes but hoped the fact that he stood outside waiting meant there was an invitation in them. The kid knew himself. It didn’t explain why Woody would be attracted to him, though.

  Mack’s breath caught. This was when he knew what he wanted, who he wanted. Woody’s body had so beautifully responded to everything he’d done to him. His face, open and fresh, had become irresistible. He turned off the engine and climbed out. Afraid to move, to breathe, he just looked, drinking in the man—taller, almost as broad shouldered as he was and much too pretty for the likes of him.

  “Come on.” Woody’s soft voice carried across the street. “It’s cold out here.”

  Mack took a deep breath and obeyed.

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  Chapter Ten

  Inside, in a déjà vu moment, Mack pushed Woody back against the door, held his head between his hands, thumbs under his chin holding it up. The kid’s lips parted, his gaze desiring, wary. Mack’s lips prickled with need. The only way to cure that sensation was the press of another man’s lips. Of this man’s lips.

  Mack needed to devour Woody, but a little part of his brain warned him to take it easy, to go slow. He kept the pressure of his lips delicate, remembering the smooth texture of Woody’s mouth, ruffling through his beard, tweaking the strands, exulting in his quickened breath and sharp moans.

  Woody pulled the tiniest bit back and murmured, “That cap.” Mack couldn’t help his chuckle and whispered, “I’m still not bald.” His humor ended when Woody pushed the cap off and thrust fierce hands through his hair, tightened his fingers, and yanked. Yes.

  Hurt me.

  Woody angled his head to one side, pushing Mack’s to the other so their noses wouldn’t bump, and pleaded, “Don’t talk. Please, just don’t talk.” Then he took control and deepened the kiss.

  Mack slid his arms around Woody’s shoulders, felt strong arms wind around his waist. He met the kiss, tongues entwining and sliding along the sensitive surfaces. Woody’s tall, hard, supremely masculine chest rubbed against his. This was what he’d missed all those early years of trying to be with women. Hard chest, hard belly, hard cock.

  His penis filled, thickened, and lengthened against Woody’s equally erect penis.

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  All he yearned to do now was hold the throbbing shaft in his hand in prelude to having it in his mouth. Dropping his fingers to the front of Woody’s jeans, he opened the button and zipper, shoving his hand inside to clasp him. He moaned, a deep-throated mating moan. The ring of his anus softened, that unfamiliar desire fracturing him for a second.

  “No.” Woody settled both hands on Mack’s chest.

  Mack’s heart stuttered. No. No wouldn’t happen now. He grabbed Woody’s wrists and shoved them over his head against the wooden door as if to hold him hostage. To remind him how good they could be together, Mack ground his erection against Woody’s, pumping his hips in large, circling movements. His eyes met Woody’s aroused, surprised ones and held. Woody’s dilated gaze flowed over his face, eye-to-eye, and focused on his mouth. Then he licked his lips. Nerves or invitation? God, that tongue. Mack’s whimper exploded from deep inside him.

  “Bedroom.” Woody ordered in a husky, rough whisper. He flexed his hips, sealing the demand.

  Yes, they needed to be in the bedroom, but Mack thrilled at the idea of bondage. The idea of making Woody a captive to all he wanted to do was seductive.

  It was Woody’s house—Woody’s bedroom. Even so, Mack took charge. A quick glance around the room showed curtains drawn over the two windows. He flicked on the bedside lamp, opening the drawer in the table, knowing he’d find the supplies they’d need. Not able to suppress his groan at the sight of the dildo, his entire body heated. He took it out, staring at it for a long time before placing it on the surface.

  His gaze flickered to Woody, whose eyes were wide and bright with arousal. And anticipation.

  They stripped each other of shirts, jeans, shoes, and underwear.

  Mack met Woody’s gaze and very deliberately caressed his thigh, running a palm up the side and around the back to squeeze his high, tight ass cheek. Woody bared his teeth, eyes glazed. Oh, yeah. The I’ll Be Your Last

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  kid wanted an ass fucking, and Mack knew just how to accommodate him.

  Roughly, he pushed Woody onto the bed, onto his stomach, admiring again the shape of his shoulders narrowing to the compact ass he couldn’t stop lusting over.

  Woody responded with a searing groan. “Oh, yes.” Lovingly lubing up the dildo, Mack crawled over him, blanketing Woody’s back with his chest, his dick riding Woody’s ass crack. With a few nudges, he parted him, his cock sliding between, seeping pre-cum wetting and slicking the groove.

  “Jesus, you feel so good.” He stopped just short of calling him

  “kid.” He had no intention of ruining anything. “Is this what you want?” he murmured, flexing his hips, driving his cock deeper into the crevice, his dick slipping over the opening.

  Woody’s head bobbed. “Unh, yeah. Yeah.” He sounded tortured.

  His eyes squeezed tightly shut.

  His profile, dark against the white pillow, his hair mussed wildly, electrified Mack. A dark angel. Blood surged through him at the thought of his dick surrounded by that
angel mouth. “Open your eyes.

  Don’t hide from me.” Mack straddled Woody’s thighs, parted his ass cheeks, and squirted the thick lube against the puckery little hole. He caught back a sob at the sweet sight and glanced at Woody, at his tightly clenched jaw. Mack could see his struggle to talk.

  Tightly, he ground out, “Do it. I’ve been dreaming of this for days.”

  Mack suffered a moment of terror. What was he getting himself into? Woody’s ass, that was what. Where he’d wanted to be for days, too. He bent over, resting his chest on Woody’s back, feeling his rough breaths and murmured, “Oh, baby, you’re going to get exactly what you want.”

  “Fuck.”

  “That’s what I plan to do.” Running a finger around the hole, Mack teased it, smoothing out the tight ring until it began to relax.

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  Woody groaned and shifted.

  He placed the head of the dildo where his finger had been. “Is it too cold, sweetheart?”

  Woody whimpered, shaking his head in frantic little motions.

  With a twist of his wrist, Mack pushed the smooth head in.

  Woody groaned, his hips pushing back.

  Rotating the head, he pushed it further in, giving Woody the full benefit of the rippled glass. He pulled the dildo almost completely out, leaving the head in, stretching Woody’s anus. Then he surged in gently, shallowly in and out until Woody’s continuous muttered curses filled the room. Splaying his hand across Woody’s lower back to hold him still, his smile felt evil. God, he loved teasing, torturing, and pleasuring him.

  Mack leaned down, using his hips to hold the dildo in. He slid his hand through Woody’s hair, wrapping his fingers in the strands. And pulled.

  “Yes.”

  Suckling Woody’s earlobe between his teeth, he whispered, “I’ve been thinking about this little toy since the first time I saw it. Do you want me to go faster? Slower?” He chuckled. “Twistier?” Woody gave a few jerky nods, his face beet red, his eyes scrunched closed, his teeth clenched tight. Mack hesitated. The power he held at this moment over this man’s pleasure overwhelmed him. He’d never experienced anything like it. He’d never played before.

  Knowing he was almost at the end of his control, Mack thrust the dildo completely in, twisting it like a screw.

  Woody writhed, his sounds guttural, violent, and shattering.

  Mack needed more. “I need to suck you off.”

  “Oh, God.”

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  Oh, God, yes. Woody was crazy with sensation overload. Mack knew just how to twist the rippled glass plug for maximum effect.

  He’d only used it on himself, never let another man fuck him with it, his own personal toy. Mack’s muscular weight holding him captive, vulnerable, and at his mercy was the most excruciatingly erotic experience he’d ever had. His spine flamed and prickled with heat. He couldn’t move his hips except to shallowly fuck the bed.

  The pleasure of knowing Mack watched the glass tease and enter his hole, knowing he twisted and screwed it around as much to spike Woody’s desire as his own, exploded through his body. To be completely controlled by this man was exactly what he’d wanted from the very first minute he’d seen him. Usually an aggressive sexual partner himself, giving up his ass for Mack Penchant was the ultimate turn on.

  In fact, he loved it.

  Every sense centered on his ass, on the hole being plundered by the hottest man he’d ever been with. He’d never been an exhibitionist, but he reveled in the room’s bright light, so Mack could see every hidden, secret part of him, and he loved all Mack’s delicious moans and groans.

  Mack’s thrusts became more forceful, more vigorous. His guttural grunts were an aphrodisiac in themselves. Woody wasn’t able to push back, Mack’s hand hard and heavy in the small of his back.

  “God! Yes! Damn it! Fuck me harder, you bastard!” Woody bit down on his lower lip as he pumped his sensitive, aching cock into the bed.

  “Bastard?” Mack’s voice held amusement. “Is that any way to talk to someone who’s giving you this much hot pleasure?” Coupled with caressing squeezes of his ass cheek, Mack switched his thrusts to shallow, measured probing.

  The nerve endings circling Woody’s anus ignited in sharp, soul-shattering, and glorious little fires and immense explosions. “Jesus, 82

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  Mack,” he whimpered. “Make me come! Please!” The ass fucking stopped. “Damn! Don’t stop!”

  Mack rolled him to his back, lifted and widened his thighs, pressing his pelvis down to keep the dildo inside. A big hand wrapped around his cock, Mack’s thumb smearing the pre-cum around the head. “I’m gonna suck you off, baby. Would you like that?” Woody could barely breathe with the fullness in his rectum and the intensity of what was happening to him. Gasping, he reflexively arched into Mack’s hand, growling, “Yes.” Who wouldn’t? When Mack covered his cock with his mouth, swallowing it deeply, Woody gripped his hair, pulling thick swaths between his fingers. Suction increased—tongue, teeth, and lips dragging around and torturing his swollen erection. All the while, Mack pressed the heel of his hand against the dildo to keep it in place.

  Cock and ass, both were worked hard, then harder. Woody couldn’t keep still, his hips driving up into Mack’s mouth and down onto the dildo, at that angle brushing again and again over his prostate. Words mixed with unintelligible sounds dragged from his mouth. It went on forever. He wanted it to never end. If this didn’t end, he’d die. But it would be worth it.

  Woody dug his heels into the bed and clutched tightly to Mack’s head, holding him in place. It was crazy. His sensations, the double whammy of blow job and ass fucking, were shattering. With a loud shout, he violently climaxed, bowing his upper torso off the bed.

  Mack swallowed his cum, the contractions of his throat against the head of his cock exquisite. God love him, the man held his penis securely in his mouth until the last drop spurted out. Weakly, Woody collapsed sprawled, his hands falling from Mack’s head onto the sheets. Physically exhausted and depleted of sensation, he whimpered softly when Mack caressed his belly and chest, his fingers tracing the hills and valleys. Mack’s gaze followed his pressing thumbs up his sternum to circle his nipples.

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  * * * *

  Mack’s emotions flew high. He hadn’t expected this to become his most intense sexual experience. It had begun in desperation and hunger. The last thing he wanted or needed in his life was emotion where Woody was concerned.

  But right at this moment, his rigid, hungry cock was running the show. Giving pleasure to Woody had been uniquely satisfying. His chest ached with a desire for this one man even though he was positive he didn’t deserve him.

  Licking at the salty remnants of cum, listening to the soft moaning, he smiled to himself at the sight of Woody’s weak, sprawled body. He dragged his palms over the springy hair nesting Woody’s softening cock, up over the hard belly to cup his pectorals.

  Yes. This was what he desired. Not a woman’s soft breasts, but the hard muscles of a man’s body. He swirled the tip of his tongue around a dark nipple, around the rising pebbles of arousal, to the hard bud in the center.

  “Yes,” Woody murmured.

  “I thought you’d be too tired for more,” he whispered back, taking a tip delicately between his teeth.

  “Unh-unh.” His head rolled back and forth on the pillow.

  “Is there anything you don’t like?” Mack suckled hard, nipped Woody’s nipple and rocked it.

  “Harder.”

  The kid liked it rough, did he? As if what they’d just done had been easy. Oh, God. His cock surged, thickened, felt hotter and harder than it’d ever been. “I need to fuck you.”

  “Yes,” Woody said. “Fuck me.” He lifted shaking hands and bracketed Mack’s face between his palms.

  Something else Mack wasn’t used to—
allowing himself or his partner any moment of tenderness.

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  “Your eyes are so deep blue.” Woody traced his thumbs over Mack’s cheeks, drawing circles, pressing his lips open, even rubbing his teeth.

  Mack brushed his tongue over Woody’s thumb and sucked it into his mouth, closing his eyes at the sweet pleasure. “You’re not too sore?” He wasn’t a brute. He hadn’t been gentle with the glass dildo.

  Woody shook his head. “Please. I want you.” He lifted Woody’s feet and placed them on the bed, his knees pushed as wide as he could get them. He twisted and surged the glass erotically in and out of his ass, charging him up again. Woody’s expressions showed a whole catalogue of pain, pleasure, anticipation, desire. Before removing the lovely toy completely, he angled it around just inside the pucker, stretching Woody so his cock, much thicker than the glass, would fit.

  Quickly donning a rubber and slathering himself and Woody with more lube, he rolled the dildo to the side and fingered the sweet hole, stroking shallowly inside the way he had with the plug. There was no barrier to reaching the P-spot. He pulsed against it and was rewarded with Woody’s groan and the resurgence of his cock.

  “Jesus. Would you fuck me already?”

  “You’re a demanding man.” Mack took a second to croak out a laugh at Woody’s order and the desperation in his dark, glittering eyes. He lined up the head of his cock and thrust it, with one smooth, forceful push, all the way in to the hilt. “God, you’re tight. Hot.” The son of a bitch was squeezing his cock almost painfully. “So good. So goddamned good.” He balanced above the kid on outstretched arms, not moving, feeling Woody’s rectal channel spasm around his prick.