Him (Him #1)(84)

“Nooooo!” Wes lifts both his legs to trap me in them. “No.” Kiss. “No.” Kiss. “Don’t even think about it.”

Pinning his hands to the quilt is easy, because he’s horny to the point of distraction. “Stop it, baby. It’s the couch delivery. We’re paying seventy-five bucks for them to show up on a Saturday.”

“I hate you,” he says, but he releases me.

“I can tell,” I argue, squeezing his hard dick as I climb off him. He moans one more time, cursing me, the sofa and also the universe.

I close the bedroom door for Wes’s privacy and for my own sanity. I use the intercom to buzz down to the front desk, and I ask the doorman to send the sofa up on the freight elevator. Then I adjust myself and try to think about boring stuff to deflate the tent I’m pitching in my shorts.

But there is no boring stuff. I start my job next week, and I can’t freaking wait. Meanwhile, I get to explore this gorgeous city where I’m living with the man whose company I’ve craved since I was thirteen. And moving in together isn’t even scary. If you tally up all the weeks we’d spent at camp over the years, we’ve actually lived together for more than a year already.

There’s a whole lot of sex involved now, of course. Everything is different, and yet it’s exactly the same. And it’s a whole lot of fun.

When I let the delivery guys in, there are three of them. “Where do you want it?” they ask.

“Anywhere over here,” I indicate the living room. “We’re going to have to move it when our rug comes, so it doesn’t matter where.”

“Nice place,” the man in charge remarks, cracking his gum. His guys set the sofa in the middle of the space. It’s wrapped in a lot of plastic, so I hope it’s the one Wes ordered.

“Thanks.” I sign for the sofa.

After they troop out, I close and lock the door, then walk over to the sofa and run a hand along the length of it. “Hey, Wesley!” I call loud enough for him to hear me behind the bedroom door. “Getcha ass out here!”

“No!” he counters.

I tug my shirt off. Then I drop my shorts. “I’m naked!”

That does it. He throws open the bedroom door and speed-walks down the hallway, nude, carrying a bottle of lube. By the time he reaches me, I’m sitting spread-eagled on the back of the sofa like a porn star, stroking myself.

Wes spares the couch a single glance. “Dude, my couch is wearing a condom.”

I grab his hips and pull him close to me. “I noticed that,” I say, kissing his jaw. “That’s because it knows I’m about to bend you over it.”

Wes groans. “Promises, promises.” He slips a hand between our bodies and cups it over my hand. We stroke each other while our kisses grow deeper and hotter.

I reach around his body and cup his ass. When my hand finds the toy lodged there, I groan into his mouth.

“Do it,” he pants.

Everything begins to happen very fast. With a firm grasp, I remove the toy, while Wes slicks up my dick. He yanks me off the sofa’s back and braces himself against it. “Go,” he orders.

I come up behind him and grip his hips, the head of my cock sliding between his taut ass cheeks. Just like the other night, I’m floored by the sensation of being skin to skin. There’s no barrier between my throbbing dick and his tight ass, and when I drive deep on the first stroke, we both groan with abandon.

“Fuck me,” he demands when I go still.

But I’m too busy savoring the incredible feeling of being inside him without a condom. I roll my hips and he growls like a grumpy bear.

“I swear to God, Canning, if you don’t move, I’m gonna—”

I pull out, then slam right back in. He makes a choked sound, his entire body trembling.

“You’re gonna what?” I ask mockingly.

Rather than answer, he just moans again. Low, agonized. Shit, he’s desperate for it. I guess I would be too if I’d walked around all day with a plug rubbing on my prostate.

I smooth my hand down his strong back, then lean in and plant a kiss between his shoulder blades as I withdraw again. “I like you like this,” I murmur. “That sexy ass in the air. Having you at my mercy. Hearing you beg.”

He blows out a breath. “You’re a sadist.”

Laughing, I quicken the pace. Three, four frantic thrusts before I slow down again, which draws a strangled groan from his lips.

“You need to learn some patience,” I tell him. But shit, I’m teasing myself as much as I’m teasing him. My balls are so tight they hurt, already tingling with the telltale signs of impending release.

“Screw patience,” he grumbles. “Wanna come.”

“Sulking ain’t helping your cause, dude.”

“No? How about this then?” He pushes his ass back against me and starts f*cking my cock, fast and greedy.

Holy hell. There’s no way I can hold back now. It’s too good. I’m too horny.

My fingers dig into his hips as I slam into him, each deep thrust sending me closer and closer to the edge. Our breathing grows labored as our bodies slap together, but I need more. I need… I plant my hands on his chest and tug him up so his back is plastered to me. The new angle makes him cry out in pleasure, and then he twists his head toward me and our lips meet in a scorching kiss that fogs my brain.