Page 48 of The Mechanics of Lust

“What the hell do you think?” I wrapped both hands around his hips and guided him up and over my cock without any downward pressure. Then I took his dick in a firm stroke and he thrust forcefully into my hand, keeping his eyes locked on mine like he didn’t want to miss a second. Jesus Christ, he was sexy.

I kept stroking, drawing small gasps as Zach wriggled his hole a little against the head until he had it exactly where he wanted. Then, he dropped down, centimetre by centimetre on an agonisingly slow slide, his jaw clenched, his face set in determination, the lines around his eyes tight with effort and edged with the sting of the stretch. Down and down, until the tight furnace of his arse engulfed me in a feeling that was pretty close to fucking magical.

Finally, fully seated, his balls nice and cosy against my groin, Zach’s eyelids fluttered closed, and he blew a few calming breaths as he waited for his body to relax. I counted every single one, desperate to thrust as I fought the rush to orgasm. It was way, way too soon. But by the time Zach looked up and smiled to let me know we were ready to go, I’d clawed back the control I needed, and all bets were off.

This was clearly Zach’s show. He was in charge.

He leaned down and kissed me, licking into my mouth as his body slid up the length of my cock. Then he went back up on his knees and sank down once again, slowly, too fucking slowly, and with a coy smile plastered on his face.

The next time was faster, and then faster again, and then that smirk slipped as he found a position that worked and started shuttling up and down my cock. I took his hips in my hands and thrust as he sank, watching his face, checking he was okay. But he rode me hard, his skin slick with sweat, his gaze firmly locked on mine.

“Come here.” I pulled him down to land a kiss on those swollen lips, the angle letting me thrust into him again and again as he groaned into my open mouth.

“Jesus, fuck. Do me like this.” He pulled off and quickly switched to his hands and knees before backing to the edge of the bed.

“Oh, hell yes.” I scrambled to my feet and steadied his hips in my hands while my cock slid back inside, the sweet bliss drawing a garbled run of nonsense from my lips.

“Fuuuuck.” He thumped his closed fist on the mattress, then slammed back into me, forcing me even deeper. His head dropped to the mattress and he wriggled his arse against my groin, and I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen anything so fucking delicious put on display for me to take.

I took the hint and the room fell silent except for grunts and groans and the sound of skin slapping on skin. It didn’t get any better than watching my dick shuttling in and out of Zach’s arse, or at least not until I caught sight of our reflection side-on in the mirror on the wall at the end of the bed.

“Damn... look at us,” I managed to grunt between thrusts.

Zach gave a quick look over his shoulder. “Fuck, that’s hot.”

I repositioned us to improve the view and started up again. Zach’s smile when he caught my eyes in the mirror was breathtaking, and as we both edged closer, I slipped a hand around his hip and took a firm grip of his cock.

“Oh god, yes.” Zach’s gaze left the mirror as his head fell forward.

“That’s it, baby.” I added a twist to my stroke and he jerked.

“Oh, fucking hell!” He dropped to his elbows and started working his hips in time with my thrusts, messing with the rhythm of my strokes. Not that it seemed to matter because a few seconds later, he tensed and his cock swelled and then erupted in my hand, come spilling through my fingers to the sheet as he jerked in my arms.

The sight of him going over and the tight grip of his arse on my cock was all I needed. I groaned and spilled into the condom, my arms tightening around his waist so I could haul him up and bury myself deeper until the waves of pleasure stuttered to a close.

Sated and spent, Zach fell forward onto the bed, dragging me with him until I was draped over his body like a sweaty cloak, my chin hanging over his shoulder. He drew a few gasping breaths and then his elbow caught me in the ribs. “Get off me before I melt.”

I chuckled and gently eased free of his arse before rolling onto my back still panting.

“Oh, thank God.” He took another couple of breaths through the slightly uncomfortable disconnection and then followed suit, starfishing across the bed, one arm covering my face.

“Let’s not do that face in the mattress thing again until winter,” he huffed.

I chuckled and shoved his arm off my mouth. “Pretty sure it wasn’t my idea.”

“Didn’t see you complaining.” He rolled to the side and traced a line down my chest before lifting the empty leather cord. “You took it off.” His eyes found mine and there was an unexpected softness in their depths.

I ran my thumb down his cheek and over his lips. “I figured it was time.” I cupped his face and brought our lips together. He melted into the languid kiss, taking it deeper but keeping it tender. And when he finally pulled away, neither of us voiced the unspoken question left hanging from my admission. Instead, Zach dropped his head to my chest and I slipped an arm around his waist and pulled him close.

He slung his leg over mine and played with the hair on my chest. “I like that you don’t wax.”

I snorted and kissed the top of his head. “I like that you like that I don’t wax. I did try it once, but it seemed a hell of a lot of effort and pain just to have to turn around and do it all over again way too often to be worth it. Besides, I don’t get what’s wrong with a little hair. I happen to like hair on my men.”

“Yourmen, huh?” He eyed me with amusement and I could’ve kicked myself. But it didn’t seem Zach was too bothered. “Well, I guess you’ve had enough to know what you like and don’t.”

I knew he was teasing but there was an edge of enquiry there as well. One that I suddenly wanted to clarify. I caught his gaze and held it. “For the record, not that I need to explain myself, but I haven’t been with a guy in over three months.”

He blinked, clearly surprised, then he ducked his head sheepishly. “I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry. What you do is your own business.”

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