Lovers Like Us (Like Us #2)(84)

I roll my eyes into a smile and then I guide his hand off our cocks. “Don’t jack us off, smartass.”

He flexes at my voice. “Fuck,” he growls, head almost lolling back. Damn. He places his palm on my ass, and I drop my foot off the couch. To the floor.

I lean over and unzip the duffel. Lube, check. Dildo, check. Not as long or wide as my dick, but this is the exact brand and size he’s used to. We have to start somewhere, and if he’s done this alone, then he should be able to do it with me.

My mouth returns to his while I coat the length of the dildo. He deepens the kiss, and I hook my arm beneath his knee and then grip the velvet armrest. Elevating his leg.

He breaks our lip-lock, his chest rising and falling like he’s running up a steep hill.

I slowly suck his jawline, his ear, and I whisper, “I’m not going to hurt you, wolf scout.” Trust me.

Maximoff looks straight into me. As though he’s remembering who I am. He sweeps my features: my carved biceps that protectively encase him, and my eyes that caress his forest-greens.

He eases, muscles unwinding. There we go.

He bends his other knee towards his ribs, giving me access, and seizing my neck, he brings my head down to his—our mouths meet. I start smiling, his rough, aggressive kiss fuels my own need. My red hot-veins throb.

Sweat builds on his tanned skin, and I graze his hole with the lubed dildo. He breaks apart from my mouth, and I shake my head. “Relax, relax,” I whisper into a tender kiss.

My voice soothes him. I can clearly tell. His chest collapses in a deeper breath, and his muscles start to loosen.

I study his reactions and push deeper. Arousal parts his mouth. He really liked that.

His grip tightens on my bicep and my ass. Our faces inches away. I keep one hand on the armrest to ensure his leg stays hoisted. But my knuckles whiten, muscles burning.

Fuck, I want to pound my cock into him. I grit my teeth, but my hips arch into Maximoff on instinct.

He bites down, turned on, and his eyes narrow in a glare. Drilling hot into me. “Fuck me, man,” he almost growls out in pleasured agony, his gnarled groan fisting me.

Fuckfuck. My ass flexes, and I drive the dildo deeper.

His neck is strained in desire. “God.” His eyes almost roll. “Harder. Harder.”

I’ll take him being bossy over him being afraid every day, every night. I catch his lip between my teeth, then I move rougher. I grind against him.

And I fill him. I can tell he’s used to this because he tries to reach for it, but he remembers that I’m controlling the speed.

He just lets go. His hand returning to my bicep. Trusting.

I kiss him strongly, and I pump the toy.

His head tries to hang back. “Fuck,” he groans.

I tuck a pillow beneath his ass. Lifting him up, and when I drive into him again, his legs vibrate, overwhelmed, hitting the most sensitive spot.

Fuck, Maximoff.

Our erections stand at attention against our hard chests, and each time I thrust forward, we rub together. I time my movements with the toy, and his face reddens, caging breath.

My nose flares, sweat blistering my skin. I’m walking the same edge he’s on.

“Farrow,” he chokes, his eyes try to roll again.

Fuck, I can’t stop looking at him, his arousal primal and raw; it’s sending me to a new height. Our pre-cum wets his chest, my chest.

Our mouths brush as I rock forward, close. Fucking close—he makes a noise he’s never made before, almost a wolfish whimper.

“Oh, fuck,” Maximoff moans. “Come on me.”

I am roped into his fucking existence. I pump my hips faster, the friction like a hand, and he lets go of my bicep just to stroke me. That pressure—I jerk forward. Fuckfuckfuck. I come, dripping, and his chest glistens.

I groan, my waist rocking. I push the dildo deeper, and his mouth breaks, head tilted. Contracting around the toy in a prostate orgasm. I wish that were my cock.

His eyes puncture the ceiling in a glare and then roll back. There’s my favorite cum-face.

I grip him just like he gripped me. His muscles spasm, and he comes on our chests. I could easily harden again.

But I focus more on him as he comes down. He looks satiated, content. I start smiling. Good.

I ease the dildo out of Maximoff and set it aside, then wipe my hands and chest with a towel. He sits up a little more and stretches out his legs, interlacing with mine.

Still on top, I clutch the velvet armrests next to his shoulders. Watching him eye me, more intense. He’s staring at me like I’m more than a fantasy.

“I’m real,” I breathe, causing his breath to shallow, “and older, stronger, wiser—”

“Thank you,” he says dryly, “for those additional lies.”

My lips quirk more. “Anytime, wolf scout.”

New Year’s Eve fireworks blast in the city night. Loud bangs strike the air, and the sparkling light flickers through the window and illuminates the five-star suite.

More than the nice shit, I’m enrapt in the fact that he made this view happen for me. When he doesn’t do this for anyone. The gesture thunders in my core.

Maximoff hones in on my mouth, and I read kiss me, man in his forest-greens.

I don’t give in that easily. I lean close, and huskily, I tell him, “My cum is on your chest.”

His jaw tenses, his cock almost rousing. He glances down at his abs, then up at me. “I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”