Pushing Connor (The Dungeon #4)(14)

Opening the drawer, he took out the lube. He poured a generous amount onto his palm, then dribbled some on Wesley’s ass crack. Wesley jumped, the liquid cold against his skin.

“Easy there.” Dropping the bottle on the bed beside them, Connor used his free hand to steady Wesley. “It’s just lube.”

Wesley moaned and nodded, his forehead still resting against the mattress.

“Are you okay there, love?”

“Uhh.”

Connor froze. “Wesley? Everything all right?”

“Yes. God, yes.”

Focused on the smile he heard in Wesley’s voice, Connor let the missing “Sir” pass. The slap he delivered with his free hand turned into a caress.

“I’m going to fuck you until you can’t walk anymore.”

A moan was his only answer. His cock gave a sharp throb, and he could feel himself dripping. Clenching his teeth, he spread the lube on his shaft, giving the base a long squeeze, buying him some time.

He lubricated the rim of Wesley’s asshole; then he slipped his thumb inside. The muscles contracted around it. He held still, giving Wesley time to adjust. When the pressure eased, he worked the digit in and out, loosening him more. A second finger joined the first, then a third. By then, the clenching was barely there and a continuous moan poured out of Wesley.

“Are you ready, babe?” Connor positioned himself behind Wesley, careful of the spreader keeping Wesley’s legs apart.

“Yes.”

“Are you sure?” He gave Wesley a tentative slap, watching the skin whiten then redden.

“Oh God, yes. I’ve been waiting for you to fuck me for a week now.”

Connor winced at the unspoken reproach but didn’t linger on it. He grabbed Wesley’s hips and pulled him back a bit, so the spreader wouldn’t be in the way of him pounding his lover’s ass. Wesley shifted, following Connor’s silent instructions.

Holding the base of his cock and aligning himself with Wesley’s hole, Connor pushed slowly inside. The muscle constricted as he entered. Breathing through half-clenched teeth, Connor fought for control as he tried to give Wesley time to get used to the intrusion.

Wesley moaned, thumping the mattress before fisting the sheet again. He pushed back against Connor, impaling himself.

“Shit! Stay still.”

His control completely shot, Connor grunted, and grabbed Wesley’s hips, trying to keep him in place long enough to allow himself to regain some measure of self-restraint.

But Wesley wouldn’t be contained. Head thrown back, spine arched, he ground himself against Connor, urging him on. Each of his thrusts was marked by a low cry, and each of those pushed Connor closer to his climax.

“Wait.”

“No. Fuck me.”

Connor could feel his balls drawing tight. Tension pooled at the base of his spine. No, he couldn’t come like that. He wouldn’t come like that. Lips curling in concentration, he dug his fingers into Wesley’s hips, hard enough to bruise. It gave Wesley pause enough to allow Connor to take back control.

“That’s better.”

Connor thrust in slowly. He felt the heat engulfing him. Wesley strained, trying to speed up the rhythm again. A sharp slap to his ass got him back on track. However, the respite had been short lived, and tension built again. Or perhaps it hadn’t disappeared at all, and Connor simply hadn’t been aware of the fact. He didn’t have long.

Reaching below, he grabbed Wesley’s cock. It was hard and leaking. Connor tugged on it. Wesley’s hips snapped forward, driving his dick faster into Connor’s palm, his ass clenching with the motion.

Connor dove in again, harder and faster, the rhythm awkward because of the position. Wesley grunted.

“I want you to come for me.”

“I can’t.” Wesley’s voice was strained, the muscles in his back popping out like cords.

“You can and you will.” Connor gave one long, dragging pull, his palms twisting over the head on the upstroke.

Wesley moaned—a guttural sound dragged from deep inside his chest. It hit Connor like a train and sank into him, taking hold of his cock. He felt himself go harder. Wider. Deeper.

“Come. Now.”

Wesley groaned and froze, his strain obvious. His head drooped, shoulders tense, as he spilled over Connor’s hand.

Connor bit down on Wesley’s shoulder. He gave one long, hard push. Then, with a low, long groan, Connor came, buried deep in his lover’s ass.





Chapter 6


There was something wrong with Connor. Wesley lay in bed watching his lover sleep, brow furrowed in thought. He couldn’t put his finger on what it was, but something was definitely off. Connor twitched and sighed, rolling onto his other side. Wesley fought the need to shake him awake and demand to know what was going on. To stop himself from reaching over, he settled on his back and clasped his hands behind his neck.

Their earlier encounter returned to haunt him. He saw Connor walking through the door, felt the weight of his gaze, and remembered nothing amiss. Then they’d moved into the bedroom. That’s where it had gone wrong. Again, he saw Connor stepping out of the bathroom, a set expression on his face. From then on, he’d acted differently—colder. So, what had happened in those minutes he’d spent alone? What could have triggered that change?