Page 70 of Out of Control

The answer was obvious, of course. Because he hadn’t been with Drago.

He grabbed Dray’s hips with both hands, hooking his fingers around his hipbones, pulling back in time with his forward thrusts. The result was remarkable. He felt as if he was touching Drago’s core with every powerful plunge. It was slippery and hot and glove-like, everything he’d fantasized and more. So much better than his hand in a shower or in the furtive cover of his sleeping bag. So muchmore.

He felt Drago shift, reach for his own cock, fisting his erection while Spencer fucked his ass. The raw eroticism of Drago’s moans made his hips speed up, his hands jerk harder, his cock slam home harder and deeper with each piston-like drive.

The tone of Drago’s moans changed. They became higher-pitched. Changed into pants of pleasure-pain. Spencer slammed home even harder now, groaning with every shuddering sheathing of his cock in Drago. He felt Drago’s forearm moving quickly as Dray brought himself to the brink of coming again.

Spencer’s balls tightened against his body. His body clenched, winding itself like a spring. His entire being narrowed down to a point, exactly where his body and Drago’s joined, the pleasure building between them so exquisite he didn’t think he could take any more.

All at once his orgasm exploded forth, a burning, molten gush that went on and on, pumping from his core like an uncapped well. It felt so good he might have passed out momentarily from the overload of ecstasy.

Finally, at long last, his body emptied itself of cum and of pleasure. Drained dry and more exhausted than he could believe, he collapsed against Drago’s back. Perspiration had soaked through his shirt, and the musky sweet scent of his lover filled his nostrils.

He rested his forehead on the back of Drago’s neck. “Holy cow.”

“Just think. You’ve been missing that for your whole life.”

“Don’t remind me,” he muttered, too wiped out emotionally to argue with Drago.

“You liked it?”

“Uhh-huh. You?”

“Not bad for a beginner. There’s a whole lot more to teach you, but I’d call that a promising start.”

“There’s more?” he blurted in disbelief.

Drago’s only answer was a low chuckle. It vibrated through his mind with a promise of even more mind-boggling delights to come. His dick stirred and he froze, shocked. Already? After that? Dang. He really had been missing out on more than he’d realized. His body seemed prepared to make up for lost time.

Drago must have felt the stirring too, for he laughed quietly in the darkness. “There will be plenty of time for more where that came from. But we probably need to catch a little sleep while we can. Who knows when we’ll get a chance to rest again.”

The real world came crashing back in on him all at once. Booby trap. Fire bomb. Surveillance devices. Bugging out. No gear. No resources. Threats all around.

But Drago.

He and Drago.

Finally.

His entire psyche gave a long, drawn-out sigh of relief that their long separation was finally at an end.

He had no idea what tomorrow would bring. But he knew without a shadow of a doubt that he and Drago would face it together. And that made all the difference.

Chapter Thirteen

DRAGO LAYawake in Spencer’s arms for a long time after Spencer’s breathing fell into the easy rhythm of sleep. Relief came over him, so profound it threatened to completely immobilize him. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed Spencer until he had him back in his life.

Like this. In his bed.

Everything that had passed in the past decade suddenly felt as if it had been a giant waiting game leading up to this moment. This man.

Apparently that whole “I don’t do relationships” mantra was total crap. He just didn’t do relationships with anyone but Spencer. He was immeasurably relieved that Spencer had finally stepped up to the emotional plate and admitted to them both that he wanted Drago in a frank, adult way. The man had been stuck in some weird intermediate limbo between pubescent longing and mature desire for far too long. It was about time he fell off that particular fence and got on with the business of living a real life. An authentic life.

Drago wasn’t the only one who needed to go home and clean up a mess. Spencer had his own house to put in order. But first they had to sort out whatever was going on with Jabril Hamza and the terror cell Khoury was involved in. Then he and Spencer had to sort out this. Whatever this was.

And they had to figure out what to do about it. Drago had no illusions—it was going to be hard to mesh their two demanding careers, and it would likely be a nightmare to figure out the logistics of where to live, when they could see each other, and most importantly, who to tell about their relationship.

For like it or not, they were in one now. Spencer could deny it all he liked, but Drago had felt Spencer’s explosive pleasure, heard his stunned cries of ecstasy. The guy was a goner. And truth be told, so was he. There had been something so sincere, so endearing about Spencer’s awkward eagerness to try topping for the first time, that he was completely pulled in by it.

---