Page 144 of The Waiting Game

God, Felix is flexible, Jonah thought as he aligned his dick with Felix’s entrance again. All that yoga for hockey is really paying off …

“Fuck,” Felix whispered as Jonah pushed inside. “That’s …”

“Yeah?” Jonah hesitated.

“No, it’s good. Keep going. Just feels different at this angle.”

“Okay.” Jonah pushed in, gliding easily now. He planted his hands by Felix’s ears. “You need me to take it slow?”

“Not too slow,” Felix urged, sliding a hand up Jonah’s back, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

And Jonah couldn’t help but grin down at him. It was better this way, looking him in the eye, seeing every flicker of emotion that crossed his face as Jonah began to move.

He fucked Felix slowly and steadily, enjoying his reactions and trying to hold off his own impending orgasm, but it wasn’t long before Felix urged him to speed up, using his hands to encourage Jonah.

Jonah felt the strain in his overused muscles as he worked over Felix, reminders of the game last night.

Felix’s eyes were closed now, lashes thick against his cheeks. Soft panting breaths left his parted lips with every thrust and he softly whimpered when Jonah got the angle just right.

So Jonah did it again and again, until Felix was shaking under him.

“Get a hand on yourself,” Jonah urged. “You don’t have to try to come untouched.”

“Sometimes I can though,” he choked out and Jonah’s rhythm stuttered as he imagined that.

But Felix did reach down, sliding a hand between their bodies. They were both messy with lube—Jonah had used a lot—and when Felix grazed his fingers along the sides of Jonah’s shaft on every outstroke, it made him moan.

“I didn’t mean tease me,” Jonah said with a breathless, desperate little laugh, continuing to thrust. Felix laughed too, eyes open now, expression fond. “I’m doing all I can not to lose it before you do.”

But Felix didn’t toy with him. He just started stroking himself in a quick, eager rhythm.

“C’mon, Jo,” he begged. “Almost there.” Jonah picked up the pace in earnest and Felix moaned quietly. “God, so close.”

“Yeah,” Jonah urged. “I want to feel you come on my cock.”

Felix’s eyes widened and he let out a small, choked sound. “Jo … fuck!”

Jonah snapped his hips and Felix clenched around him, so tight Jonah went lightheaded. And then Felix was spurting wetly between their bodies, the fingers of his other hand digging into Jonah’s back as he panted through his orgasm.

“C’mon, come with me,” Felix insisted between unsteady breaths and Jonah closed his eyes and hung his head as he fucked into the tight grip of Felix’s body.

Jonah’s orgasm felt like it began at the tips of his toes and the top of his head, rushing inward to gather low in his belly. He came into the condom with several shocked, desperate gasps, arms trembling, pleasure moving in waves through him until his head went fuzzy.

With a final, contented sigh, Jonah collapsed onto Felix’s chest. Felix pulled him close and kissed him, sloppy, lazy kisses like he didn’t quite have the energy for anything more coordinated. They were both sweaty and sticky with lube and cum and Jonah had never felt better.

Well, maybe once, when he’d lifted the Stanley Cup for the first time. But this was a very close second.

Eventually, Felix shifted their joined bodies onto their sides and smiled at him. “Fuck, Jo … that was incredible.”

Jonah ran a hand along Felix’s back. “It was.”

“Think we can do it again?” Felix asked.

Jonah laughed. “Well, I’d certainly like to. Just give me a little time to recover.”

“Perfect.” Felix sighed, sounding content. “Why haven’t we been doing this for years?”

And Jonah couldn’t answer that without making an ass of himself, so he just gave him a little shrug. “We got here—that’s what matters, right?”

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