What He Left Behind(62)

I want so badly to grip his hair, to run my fingers through it, but I don’t know if that’s welcome. Not when it’s taken him so much just to work up the nerve to do this. So I grab the pillow and hold on, forcing myself to stay still even when my hips desperately want to rock in time with his strokes. On the plus side, staying still keeps me from coming too fast—thank God, because this really is our first time all over again, and I want to savor it even more than I did then.

There’s no putting off an orgasm indefinitely, though. I grip the pillow tighter and try to stay still. Try to hold back. Not a chance.

“K-keep doing that,” I slur. “And you’ll make me come.” I’m half-expecting him to continue anyway, like he did the first time, but he stops. He lifts his head and pushes himself onto his arms.

“I do want to make you come,” he breathes as he moves up over me, “but I want to f*ck you.” He shudders, pressing his rock hard cock against me. “I want to be inside you when you come.”

Oh f*ck yes.

I moisten my dry lips. “How?”

“My favorite position, of course.”

“Perfect.” I love it when he f*cks me this way. The angle, the view—it’s all perfect. And it means I don’t have to move, which is even better, since he’s turned my spine and limbs to jelly.

Michael sits up and puts on some lube. My pulse is going crazy as he pushes my legs apart and positions himself.

The head of his cock breaches me, and as thick as he is, it makes my eyes water. Then he pulls out and does it again. And again. And again. I want him all the way inside me, every last goddamned inch of him, but that shallow f*cking is enough to drive me insane.

Michael rests his weight on his hands, pushes with his hips and slides all the way inside me. And just in case I have any sanity left, he withdraws almost completely and does it all over again. He f*cks me painfully slowly, drawing out each stroke until I’m ready to come unglued.

“Like that?” he asks as he pulls out again.

“So much. You f*cking tease.”

“Me?” He flashes a toothy grin and then slams into me. “I have no idea what you mean.”

I can’t think of a comeback. My brain’s gone blank, and he’s pulling out again, and…yes, please, please, do it again. Do it—oh f*ck!

He doesn’t let up now. He’s pounding me deep and hard, relentlessly, reducing my vocabulary to helpless near-sobs. I manage to grip the back of his neck with one hand, pump my dick with the other, and I’m in heaven. He’s kissing me, he’s f*cking me, and everything’s…everything’s perfect.

A tremor ripples through my whole body. I break the kiss with a gasp, and arch off the bed. Whatever rhythm my hand had, it’s gone now, but I don’t care.

And suddenly Michael pulls out.

And he pushes my hand away.

What the—

His mouth closes around my cock. He slides his fingers inside me and crooks them, and he’s f*cking me with them, and…and…

“Oh my God,” I whimper. “Michael, I’m—”

Gone.

Just…gone.

The whole world explodes. He keeps going, keeps sucking my cock and finger-f*cking me, and I just keep coming, and coming, and coming.

“S-stop.” I gasp for breath. “Fuck. Stop…”

Michael stops. Gives me a moment to breathe. Then he slips his fingers free. He comes back up, and even more than the very first time, I have to kiss him. I have to taste this and convince myself it’s real. That Michael really did knock down that last obstacle.

God, yes. It is real. The salt in his mouth is as real as the fading shockwaves of my orgasm. He really did it.

“I thought…” I gulp, trying not to kill the mood. “I thought you wanted to be f*cking me when I came.”

“I did.” He kisses me again, lightly this time. “I changed my mind.”

“Jesus.” I blink a few times. “You haven’t come yet, though.” I reach for the bottle of lube. “Let me do something about that.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice.” He rolls onto his back. I lie beside him, pour a little lube on my hand and then close my fingers around his cock.

Michael kisses me, but before long, he’s too out of breath to keep kissing me. Instead, he gazes down, watching me pump his dick, and then he closes his eyes and lets his head fall back. “Oh yeah… Oh…” He groans and bites his lip.

I stroke him faster, adding a slight twist to my strokes.

Michael grabs on to my shoulder and thrusts into my fist. “Fuck, Josh. Keep…” He trails off into a choked whimper, and a split second later, he comes, f*cking my hand erratically until he shivers and sinks back onto the bed.

I kiss him lightly. “Have I ever mentioned how hot it is to watch you come?”

He grins even as he’s catching his breath. “Any time you wanna watch, I’m more than happy to oblige.”

“Of course you are. Dork.”

He just chuckles, and I turn away to grab the tissues off the nightstand.

After the dust settles and we’re tangled up under the sheets, I meet his gaze. “You went down on me.”

He laughs. “You noticed.”

I roll my eyes and tousle his hair. “You know what I mean.”