Looking for Trouble(36)
He cupped Dylan’s cheek, brushed his fingers through his hair. The tips of it were a shade or two lighter than the rest. “I can’t wait to fuck that pretty, sarcastic mouth of yours.” His mouth really was made for fucking—his lips plump and pink.
“Ooh, a dirty mouth. Me likey,” Dylan replied as he pulled Clay’s sweats down.
Clay’s cock jutted free, pointing upward, aching and leaking. He stepped out of his clothes as Dylan looked up at him, his eyes full of want and something that surprised Clay—insecurity.
“If I wasn’t already on my knees, this definitely would have brought me to them.” Dylan’s smaller, softer hand stroked him.
“You say the sweetest things,” Clay replied, squeezing his eyes closed because Trouble looked so perfect on his knees, he was close to blowing his load already. “I don’t know how much longer I can wait.”
“Me neither. If we decide to do this again, we’ll go slower next time.”
Dylan sucked Clay’s tender head into his mouth, suckled it briefly, then took him deep, swallowing him down, making his throat muscles squeeze Clay’s dick. “Holy fuck.” He threaded his fingers through Dylan’s hair, held tight. “You’re good at this.” He sure as shit hadn’t ever been deep throated with that much skill.
He felt Dylan smile around him, pull off, and take him deep again. When Dylan’s mouth disappeared, Clay’s eyes jerked open, settled on him as Dylan rooted his nose around in Clay’s pubic hair.
“God, you smell so good. Woodsy and musky mixed with soap. We can just stay like this all the time, if you want—me on my knees for you.”
The statement sent panic through him, while at the same time soothing an ache inside him he hadn’t ever expected to feel soothed again. He’d be lying if he didn’t admit Dylan did something to him, made him feel in ways he never thought he could feel again.
The warm suction of Dylan’s mouth took him in again just as he started shaking, like an earthquake had erupted beneath his skin. His prick ached, his balls too, as he thought about what it would feel like inside Dylan—holding him, kissing him, touching him, while they fucked.
His head bobbed on Clay’s cock, his smooth hand cupping Clay’s balls. He felt like he was going to burst out of his skin. His body was slick with sweat, hungry with need. “Trouble…” he gritted out.
“I know. Me too.” Dylan reached over and plucked a condom from his suitcase. With expert fingers he opened it, rolled it down Clay’s rod.
He tossed Clay the lube as he shoved to his feet, his fingers also shaking as he unbuttoned and unzipped his pants. “I don’t think I’ve ever been so horny in my life,” Dylan admitted.
Clay lubed himself, and Dylan pulled the bottle from his hand, then reached behind his body, fingering himself.
“Oh fuck.”
“I can’t wait.”
Clay’s pulse throbbed. His head too. His vision went blurry, his body jittery with need. “Me neither.”
His movements were jerky, excited, as he grabbed Dylan, lifted him again, his sexy legs wrapping around his waist. Clay turned them, held Dylan’s small body between himself and the wall. He pushed two fingers in, testing the waters, fucking Dylan with them, feeling his body begin to loosen.
“I’m good,” Dylan said huskily. “Just fuck me.”
That, Clay could do. He pulled his fingers out, his whole body feeling like he’d been hooked up to a source of electricity…and sank inside. Tight…so fucking tight and hot, he had to pause and pull in a shaky breath. “Jesus…don’t think I’ve ever had such a tight hole. Bet it’s real pretty too. Next time I’ll have to see it.”
Next time. He’d just confirmed he wanted a next time, but in that moment, he couldn’t find it in himself to care.
“Fuck me,” Dylan begged, rotating his hips so he rode Clay’s cock. “Fuck me hard.”
Clay grabbed him, dug his blunt nails into Dylan’s skin, held him tightly before he did what Dylan asked. He slammed home and pulled out again—over and over and over. Sweat dripped from his body to Dylan’s. They were both slick, skin slapping against skin. Every time Clay rutted inside him, Dylan grunted, held on to him tighter, begged for more.
“Jesus, you’re big.” He dropped his head back against the wall.
“Do you need me to slow down?” Clay asked.
“I’ll kill you if you do.”
And then…then he was laughing again. Laughing and fucking. Dylan’s hair was wet with sweat, stuck against his forehead, his head banging against the wall from time to time as he rode Clay.
He tried to hold on to Dylan while reaching for Dylan’s pulsing erection.
“No.” Dylan shook his head. “You can make me come just by fucking me. My dildo gets an active workout. It’s my favorite way to come.”
An animalistic instinct Clay hadn’t known lived inside him burst free. He fucked harder into Dylan, leaned in and bit at his neck. Dylan cried out, dug his nails into Clay’s shoulders, before Clay pulled away from the wall and laid Dylan on the foot of the bed, without separating from him.
Dylan’s legs tightened around him, his heels dug into Clay’s back. Clay rutted, kissed him as he did so, thought about their bodies coming together, their sweat and saliva mixing.