by A. M. Arthur
“Holy fuck.” He fisted the comforter but couldn’t get a proper grip. “Oh God.”
Something larger and more blunt joined Alessandro’s tongue, pressing until it slipped inside of his body—a finger. Jaime pushed back against the hand working him, sliding that unfamiliar pressure in and out, over and over. His orgasm dangled within reach, taunting him, beckoning him. He could come like this, he was pretty sure, but that wasn’t how he wanted it tonight.
“Stop,” he gasped.
Alessandro stopped immediately. Almost too quickly, because that lovely finger and mouth combination were gone, and then Alessandro was rolling him over onto his back. “Are you okay?” he asked, crawling up to look him in the eye.
“I’m fantastic.” Jaime cupped Alessandro’s face in his trembling hands. “Close. Didn’t want to come like that.”
A crease of worry disappeared from Alessandro’s forehead and he grinned. “Oh good. For a second, I thought you—I don’t know.”
“I wasn’t expecting a rim job.”
“I love rimming. Not everyone does, but I do.”
Curious, he drew Alessandro down and into a kiss. Alessandro resisted at first, then gave in. He tasted musky, a little bitter—not unpleasant at all, just different. Alessandro’s hand wrapped around his dick and pumped a few times, reminding Jaime how close he was to a climax. Jaime reached down and stilled his hand. Something hot bumped his wrist, and Jaime realized with a jolt to his gut that Alessandro was hard again. He really did love rimming if he’d recovered already.
Alessandro twisted his hand around to twine his fingers with Jaime’s, and he brought their clasped hands up. Pressed them to the bed next to Jaime’s head. “What do you want, Jaime?” Alessandro whispered, his breath hot on his lips. “Tell me.”
The words popped out without any real thought, only instinct. “Fuck me.”
His face went soft, even as his eyes lit up with wicked excitement. “You sure?”
“Yes.”
Alessandro disappeared. Jaime sat up on his elbows and watched him dig in the duffel. He put on a condom with a practiced ease that Jaime envied, each movement a dance to a song that Alessandro knew by heart and Jaime was hearing for the first time. Alessandro coated the condom with lube, then stroked himself a few times as he studied Jaime.
“We can do this a lot of ways,” he finally said, “but if you ride me, you’ll have the most control.”
Jaime wasn’t certain he wanted to be in control, not really. He was grateful for Alessandro’s thoughtfulness—slow and careful might be the smart thing, but he didn’t want smart. He wanted to be fucked, damn it. “No.” He rolled onto his hands and knees. “This.”
A warm hand stroked down his back, waking up already sensitive skin. The bed creaked as Alessandro moved behind him. “This is what you want?”
“Hell, yes.”
The first slick touch against his hole sent a jolt straight to his dick, and it took a beat to realize it was a finger pressing back inside him. He didn’t want a finger again; he wanted to feel a cock inside of him. But Alessandro knew what he was doing. The finger slid in and out, moving a bit deeper each time. His hand twisted, the finger curled and something inside of Jaime came to life in an explosion of pleasure that burst out of his mouth in an embarrassing noise. Alessandro did it again, over and over, until Jaime was nearly incoherent and didn’t even realize that a second finger had been added. He might fly apart before he actually came.
And then the fingers were gone, depriving him of that driving pleasure. Hands stroked up and down his sides, and a kiss landed between his shoulder blades. Blunt pressure at his hole made Jaime’s breath catch. He forced himself to relax, to stay calm and allow entrance when his body wanted to fight against the intrusion. His heart was racing, his pulse pounding in his temples. Sweat prickled across his shoulders and back.
“Come on, baby, let me in.” Alessandro’s voice was somehow both soothing and demanding.
Something inside of Jaime calmed, and it was enough. The head of Alessandro’s cock breached his entrance and slid a little way inside. Jaime gasped at the sting and stretch, which was far more than those two fingers had been. Alessandro seemed to know all about it, because he pulled back a little before pushing deeper inside. He worked his way in like that, in and out, his cock stretching Jaime’s body until his eyes watered. Jaime swallowed every cry, every noise that might sound like pain or a protest. The only thing he couldn’t do was keep his arms from shaking.
Alessandro stroked his hands up Jaime’s sides to his shoulders. As the initial penetration turned into shallow thrusts, the sting eased into a light burn that never fully went away. He fell completely into the overwhelming sensations of a hard dick sliding in and out of his body, pushing and stretching. His head dropped down to the bed, which changed the angle, and suddenly that spark was back on every single thrust.
Jaime stopped trying to censor the noises coming out of his mouth. He let go, allowing his body to move on its own, to thrust backward against Alessandro, demanding more. Taking everything. Hands held his hips tight enough to bruise. He sensed Alessandro was holding back, not wanting to hurt him. He was so close to orgasm. It dangled there just out of reach, taunting him. But he couldn’t make his arms move enough to reach his own dick and help it along.
Alessandro seemed to guess the problem, because he reached around Jaime’s hip to grab his cock, and Jaime thrust forward into that fist as hard as he pushed back against Alessandro. The dual sensations took him over the edge, and he cried out as his orgasm crashed over him. Alessandro fucked him right through it, continuing to the very edge of discomfort, and then pulled out. Jaime collapsed onto the bed, panting, a little unnerved by the insane beat of his heart.
Latex snapped. The sound of skin on skin, then warm semen splattered onto Jaime’s back. A breath later, Alessandro flopped down on the bed next to him. Sweat coated his face and throat, and he breathed hard through a wide, satisfied smile.
“You okay?” he asked.
Jaime said something he intended to be “Uh-huh” and came off more of a grunted affirmation. Alessandro leaned over and kissed him, a gentle brush of lips that perfectly punctuated everything they’d just done. As the endorphins wore off, Jaime became more aware of the soreness in his ass—a wonderful ache that only served to remind him of one very, very important fact. He was no longer a virgin.
And he couldn’t be happier about how that had happened. Or with whom.
* * *
Alessandro battled guilt from the moment he came, during the few minutes they just lazed around on the bed, all the way through the hot shower they shared when they finally decided to clean up. Guilt that he’d gone too fast, too hard. Jaime had red marks on his hips—marks that normally would have given Alessandro a sense of pride—and he walked with a barely concealed limp that betrayed his discomfort.
Jaime was the perfect bottom—responsive, active and his ass was made for fucking. That only added to Alessandro’s guilt over how hard he’d gone. This was Jaime’s first time, and even though he hadn’t once complained or asked him to slow down, it had been Alessandro’s job to stay in control. He’d lost it near the end, taking Jaime like he would any casual fuck, and that wasn’t right.
After they showered, Jaime invited him back downstairs for a snack, and he realized he was actually hungry. He slipped into a pair of sleeping boxers and followed Jaime into the kitchen. Neither of them had bothered with shirts, and he couldn’t help wondering if Jaime even realized he was showing off a scar he’d always tried to hide.
Jaime pulled a pitcher of water out of the fridge and poured two glasses, then peeked back inside. “Leftovers are kind of slim pickings, but there’s frozen pizza. Or…”
“Or?” Alessandro hovered on the other side of the island, mimicking their earlier positions almost exactly.
“Do you trust me?”
“With food?”
“Yes.”
He pretended to ponder
his answer, which made Jaime glare at him over the fridge door. “I trust you.”
“Good.”
Jaime buzzed around the kitchen assembling the most bizarre thing Alessandro had seen in a long time. He divided cooked rice from a Chinese takeout box into two cereal bowls, added a dash of white sugar, then covered the rice with soy milk. He stirred both bowls of white goop before sliding one across the island to Alessandro.
“Shannon turned me onto this a long time ago,” Jaime said. “She told me her father used to eat it whenever they had leftover rice.”
“Cold rice soup?”
“Just try it.”
He did, and he was pleasantly surprised by the snack. It was slightly sweet, and the rice kept its bite without getting mushy like most cereal. Even the soy milk didn’t bother him much. As he ate, he also realized this was the first time Jaime had mentioned his or Shannon’s father in conversation.
“So?” Jaime asked as he took Alessandro’s empty bowl.
“Different, but tasty.” He picked up his glass of water and held it out. “To new experiences.”
Jaime’s cheeks pinked up. He clinked the lip of his glass against Alessandro’s. “To new experiences, indeed.” His eyelids drooped as he sipped his water, and when he put his glass down, he tried to hide a yawn.
Alessandro could have kicked himself. He’d forgotten that Jaime had worked at the bakery that morning. He’d probably been up since three or four, and it was pushing ten-thirty. Not exactly late for a Saturday night, but it had to be exhausting for Jaime. And he was trying very hard to hide his fatigue.
“You know, I won’t be insulted if you want to go back upstairs and get some sleep,” he said.
Jaime blinked owlishly at him for a moment. “It’s still early.”
“Not for you, it isn’t. We can still get up to something in the morning. Unless…?”
“Oh, no, Shannon won’t be home until at least noon.” Jaime seemed to debate it, and in the end, he caved. “Okay, sleep. You’re staying, though, right?”
He grinned. “Absolutely.”
They fought over the bathroom sink while brushing their teeth, and Alessandro used the close quarters as an excuse to do a little groping. Jaime turned the tables on him by trapping him between the sink and toilet and kissing him thoroughly, leaving his lips and cheeks burning with minty freshness.
Climbing into bed unnerved him more than he wanted to admit. He rarely slept over when he fucked someone, and he’d never invited a man to stay at his place for the night. He wasn’t entirely sure what to do. Jaime’s full-size didn’t help, because they didn’t have a lot of room to spread out. It forced them to stay close, intimate in a way Alessandro had never experienced. In the darkness they turned toward the center of the bed and each other.
“Still glad you hung that help-needed sign in the window?” Alessandro asked.
Jaime laughed, a rough and sleepy sound. “More than ever.”
He lay awake long after Jaime fell asleep, watching the vague outline of him in the dark. He didn’t know what to do with the tender feelings that kept nudging up from the place he’d shoved them. Tender feelings for Jaime that he couldn’t have, not if this was about sex. Not if he was expected to help Jaime get out of his self-imposed isolation, gain some sexual confidence and then go out to experience the big gay world. Those tender feelings would turn into something stronger, something that wouldn’t be able to let Jaime go when it was time.
“I can’t fall for you,” he whispered. “And don’t you dare fall for me.”
Jaime slept.
Chapter Eight
Alessandro woke to the unexpected sensation of a mouth on his dick, sucking him to hardness before he was even fully conscious. He blinked up at an unfamiliar ceiling until the previous evening came back in a rush of excitement. He propped up on his elbows and was greeted by the sight of Jaime, bright-eyed and rosy-cheeked, lips screwed around the head of his cock. Jaime winked as if to say “good morning,” and Alessandro groaned loudly as he flopped down against the pillow.
Jaime abandoned his morning wood and kissed a trail up Alessandro’s chest, taking time to pause at his nipples, and again at his neck. By the time Jaime made it to his mouth, Alessandro’s entire body was awake, tingling, and he was ready to take control. He flipped them over and pinned Jaime to the bed, pleased to feel an erection pressing hotly against his own.
“Morning,” Jaime said with an innocent grin that did funny things to Alessandro’s stomach.
“Morning, yourself,” he replied.
“Want you to fuck me again.”
Alessandro groaned at the vulgar words falling from such sweet-looking lips, then kissed him hard, tongue fucking into his mouth. Jaime lifted his legs and wrapped them around his waist, rutting up against him in a way that got his point across. Alessandro fumbled for the lube and another condom. Jaime couldn’t hide his flinch when Alessandro pushed a single slicked finger inside him.
“Too sore?” he asked with another flare of guilt.
“I’m fine. Please.”
Alessandro prepped him with more care than he had the previous night, taking his time before adding a second finger. He found Jaime’s prostate again with ease, and he worked Jaime into a gasping frenzy. He was so beautiful, sprawled on the bed with his legs open, eyes wide, panting hard for air.
“Enough, please,” Jaime finally said with a whine.
“Yeah.”
He couldn’t take his eyes off Jaime’s face as he pushed inside. He was mesmerized by every movement, every twitch and tic of muscle. Face-to-face this time, he could use those hints and adapt his speed and angle. Jaime hitched his legs up high around his waist, and Alessandro planted his palms flat on the bed by Jaime’s head. They moved together in an unpracticed rhythm that surprised Alessandro with its perfection, building their pleasure slowly and steadily. They had done fast and furious last night; this morning was something different. Better.
Alessandro’s back and thighs ached from the constant motion, but he didn’t stop. Couldn’t stop. Not until they’d both gone over. Not until he watched Jaime fall apart beneath him. Jaime hauled him down into a kiss that changed his angle again, driving him deeper into Jaime’s body. The angle also trapped Jaime’s cock between his belly and Alessandro’s, and Jaime moaned into his mouth. They fucked with their bodies and tongues and hands until they came—first Jaime, and Alessandro right after.
It took all of Alessandro’s control to not simply collapse on top of Jaime. He managed to pull out carefully, then tie off the condom. He walked with trembling legs into the bathroom to flush it and get a washcloth, telling himself the whole time his legs felt funny because of his exertion, and not for any other reason. Not because of how amazing it was to be inside Jaime again, or how gorgeous he’d looked in the midst of orgasm. Nope, none of that.
He cleaned the splatters of come off Jaime’s abs and chest, then tossed the washcloth onto the floor. He didn’t protest when Jaime tugged him back down onto the bed and wrapped his thin body around him, tangling their legs together. Jaime rested his head on Alessandro’s chest, just over his heart. Alessandro didn’t let himself think about how much he liked this—and he’d never call it cuddling—or how right it felt to hold Jaime in his arms.
He didn’t think about any of that as they dozed, sweat cooling on their entwined bodies, the last remnants of orgasm fading into memory.
He didn’t think.
* * *
As Alessandro’s breathing evened out and he drifted off into sleep again, Jaime lay wide awake, listening to the rhythm of his heartbeat. His brain just wouldn’t shut off this time. He tried to avoid thinking by reading the spines of the books lined up neatly on his bookshelves. Title after title, author after author. He’d read most of the actual books, and he started making mental lists of books he should probably donate or resell at the nearest used bookstore.
The books kept his mind focused, but they didn’t do anything to calm the sensati
ons still flooding his body. More than the post-orgasmic rush, he was so perfectly alive that he expected to vibrate right off the bed. His nerves sang with pleasure. Even the constant ache in his ass was a wonderful reminder of everything he’d discovered in the last twelve hours—not only about sex, but about himself.
He would never have guessed how much he loved bottoming. He’d read about anal sex, that it often hurt, and that not everyone enjoyed it. Some men refused to do it. Others only received. He’d like to try topping at some point for the experience, especially if receiving was something Alessandro liked, but right now he was content to be the one getting fucked. Especially if Alessandro was the one doing the fucking.
He’d also read that great sex began with the right partner, and he now knew that was absolutely true. He liked Alessandro’s candor, as well as his willingness to try new things, like rice and milk. He really, really liked how Alessandro played his body like a guitar, knowing all of the right notes and places to strum to get them.
But this wasn’t a relationship, was it? He didn’t think so. He wanted to have sex. He wanted experiences. He wanted to discover a world of life outside of this small town. He wanted to do those things with Alessandro—which was the main problem his mind was having with the last two days. Alessandro responded to him physically, but some kind of wall existed between them emotionally. A wall Alessandro had put there.
Jaime wanted this to be more than sex. It already felt like more than sex. He’d thought about what sex would be like a lot this last year, but he hadn’t taken any steps toward actually having it—not until Alessandro. Something about him made Jaime feel centered. Awake to possibilities. But if Alessandro didn’t want to pursue anything other than sex…well, he’d take what he could get while he could have it.
No strings. No expectations.
At some point he looked at the alarm clock—after eleven, which meant Shannon would be walking through the front door in less than an hour. She’d promised to stay away until noon, and even though she wouldn’t bat an eyelash at finding Alessandro at the house, he really didn’t want his big sister to catch them naked in bed together. So Jaime rustled them both up and into the shower, where they spent way too much time touching and teasing each other.
