In the Middle of Somewhere (Middle of Somewhere, #1)(129)
“Oh, baby,” Rex says. He takes my ass in his hands and eases my hips back farther, then he readjusts his angle and thrusts the last bit into me. He feels deeper than he’s ever been, like he’s touching something inside of me that has never been touched before.
Eyes on mine, he pulls out and thrusts back in again, slowly, and the skin and muscle he so sensitized earlier tingles with delight. I’m caught, already on the edge, as if any movement of Rex’s might send me spiraling over. Rex is moving so slowly that I almost can’t tell when he’s pushing into me and when he’s sliding out. With my hips held off the bed, I’m totally at his mercy, my cock pulsing against my stomach with pleasure.
“Please,” I gasp into Rex’s mouth.
He pulls out and slams back inside me, nailing my prostate and causing my whole body to clench up in pleasure. He f*cks me deep and hard, pulling my shoulders down to amplify his thrusts. I know I’m whimpering and babbling and I don’t care because he feels so good. He’s watching my every reaction and on his next thrust, he holds himself inside of me and pulls my hips down, penetrating me even deeper. I can feel the thickness of him pulsing inside my channel and pressing into my prostate, and as he holds me locked to him, he starts to move his hips, pushing impossibly deeper with tiny thrusts.
I can’t move away from this deeper penetration and I can’t control it. My mouth falls open and Rex licks my lips. He pulls my shoulders up, lifting me even closer into him, so my weight pushes him even deeper inside me.
“I can’t—” I say. “I need—” Rex kisses me hard and thrusts up into me. My insides are liquid, but his erection feels huge, so deep inside me I feel like we’re one. Rex cups my face in his hands as he kisses me and I wrap my arms around his neck.
“I love you,” Rex murmurs, “I love you.” He kisses me and lays me back down on the bed. I can’t think anymore. The whole world has narrowed to Rex. I try to say that I love him, but it comes out garbled, a mash of I and love and you that makes Rex smile.
“Keep your eyes on me,” he says, and he pulls out of me slowly, my muscles clenching and spasming around the emptiness he’s left behind. I feel bereft and I cry out, hating the sudden loss of him. He slides four fingers inside me, the fullness huge, but different, and presses on my prostate.
“Oh f*ck, Rex, oh god!”
He fingers me, rubbing at my gland until I think I’m going to explode. Then he slams his cock back inside me and I erupt without him even touching my cock, spewing come between us, starbursts exploding through my ass and tingling up my spine as I clench around him. It’s a pleasure that isn’t just orgasm but the culmination of every touch he’s bestowed on me since we started kissing, like my whole body is answering Rex’s. I can tell he’s watching me and when I can open my eyes, finally, he’s breathing heavily.
“You’re so beautiful,” he says, his voice raw.
“Now you,” I say, my whole body sensitized. “I want to feel you come inside me.”
Rex groans and rolls his eyes like I’m killing him. He kisses my throat and then starts thrusting inside me again, the sensation so amplified after my orgasm that I know I won’t be able to take it for long. I scrape my fingertips down Rex’s spine, the muscles bunching as he pushes inside me. He’s groaning, hips pistoning, and then he freezes, muscles taut.
“Oh, Danny,” he says, and then he releases deep inside me, with pulse after pulse of branding heat. His hips keep moving, like he can’t control himself, sending little tingling aftershocks through my rectum. Finally, he collapses on top of me, lips soft and breath warm against my shoulder.
As he slides out of me, groaning, he slips his fingers back in to feel his release work its way out of me. He can never help himself. As he goes to move his hand, I catch his wrist, holding his fingers inside me.
“I like it,” I say. “I don’t feel so empty.” Rex’s face tells me how much he likes that. He kisses me deeply and is asleep within seconds. I lie awake a few more minutes, thinking that maybe I can do this whole love thing after all. That seemed like a pretty good start.
THE WEEK since Rex and I got back from Philly has been relaxing and feels intimate in a way that still catches me up short when I notice it in the moment.
It’s been years since I had this much time off with no school, no job, and nothing expected of me, so, of course, now I’m starting to feel guilty for not taking this time to work on my book. This morning, I dragged myself out of Rex’s bed early and borrowed Rex’s truck to slog to the library through the snow. I’ve fiddled with my car, but despite trying every trick I know, it’s like the car died with my father and refuses to be resurrected. I should just sell it for parts and buy another, but I can’t afford even that right now.
My dad’s death feels like a bruise, tender when I bump it unwittingly but otherwise dormant. I’m not sure if that’s how I should feel or not, but I’m trying to take a page out of Rex’s book and decide that I’m supposed to feel however I feel.
It’s Colin I’m worried about. Colin I can’t stop worrying about. He never returned my call, but I’m not really surprised. I mean, he’s been gay all this time and never called me before. It’s not like I think he’s psyched to bond over it or anything.