Page 63 of Him
I find his erection and stroke my fist up its length. “Breathe,” I whisper. “Relax for me.”
His throat dips. Then he lets out another breath.
I push forward again, and this time I’m able to ease in. Just the tip, but holy hell, the pressure is incredible. He’s hot and tight, squeezing me into oblivion.
“Ohfuckohfuckohfuck.” It’s all he seems capable of saying as my cock tunnels deeper. Jamie’s cheeks are flushed, his eyes glassy.
If I last more than five strokes, it’ll be a miracle. Then again, we are in Lake Placid, which just happens to be Miracle Central.
His erection pulsates in my fist, but I don’t stroke it. Not yet. Not until he begs me to. “Jamie…you doing good?”
He moans in response.
I’m all the way in now, and my dick is in heaven. I’m in heaven. I lean forward and cover his torso with mine, my elbows on either side of his head as I bend down to kiss him. Then I start to move.
“Oh… God…” He whispers the words into my lips and I swallow them up with another tongue-tangling kiss.
I fuck him slowly, letting him get used to the sensation, but Jamie Canning is a master at adapting. It’s him who wraps his arms around me, who hooks his legs around my ass. It’s him who starts rocking up to meet my every thrust, and him who says, “Faster, Wes” as I desperately try to go slow.
“Don’t wanna hurt you,” I mumble.
“Wanna come,” he mumbles back.
I smile when he snakes one hand between the tight seal of our bodies, trying to find his cock. He’s burning up, his face and chest flushed with desire. When he bears down on my ass and groans in frustration, I take pity on my man and rise to my knees again, yanking his hips to pull him closer.
The new angle makes him curse. His fingers seek out his erection, but I gently bat them away. “My job, baby. I make you come.”
I withdraw until just my cockhead remains inside him. Our gazes lock. His breathing quickens.
Then I jack his dick in a long, hard pump at the same time I slam back in.
I have to give him credit—he manages to stay quiet this time. He bites his lip to keep from groaning, his gorgeous features strained. He’s close. I can see it in his eyes, feel it in the urgency with which he grinds his ass against my groin.
I’m covered in sweat. My own release is imminent and I want so badly to prolong it, but that’s like passing the puck to Gretzky and asking him not to take a shot. There’s no stopping the orgasm. It sizzles in my balls and ripples through my shaft, and I come while still jacking Jamie’s cock.
My world is reduced to the man beneath me. I nearly act out a scene right out of a chick flick and shout “I love you!” while I shudder in release. But I fight the temptation and focus on getting Jamie where he needs to go. My dick remains rock-hard despite the mind-blowing climax. I keep fucking him, keep thrusting forward as my hand works his erection.
“Oh…yessss…”
Sheer bliss rolls through me when his release soaks my fingertips. He comes on a strangled cry. And keeps coming. And then comes some more.
I guess nobody can say he didn’t enjoy himself.
When he finally goes still, I collapse on his sticky chest and growl in his ear. “That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”
He clings to me, his big palms pressed to my damp back.
We lie that way a long time. I’m just drifting on my own happiness. I lead a big life, and it’s a hell of a ride. But there aren’t many moments like this. I want to bottle it and carry it everywhere I go.
Finally Jamie speaks. “Do you think anyone’s still sick?”
“Wha?” There are only two people who exist to me right now, so I have no idea what he’s asking.
“I was just hoping they got it all out on the way home.”
He’s talking about the drunk teens who took half a fucking hour to walk home tonight. We had to keep stopping while they upchucked. “They’re fine,” I murmur. I kiss Jamie’s sweaty neck, and he tastes like heaven.
“Should we clean up?” he asks.
