Page 91 of Men in Shorts

Andrew gave a ragged gasp as Colin tongued the rough skin of his sack. “Yes. Give me your mouth.”

With a grunt of assent, Colin wrapped his lips around Andrew’s left ball.

“Oh!” Andrew clutched Colin’s hair, tugging at his scalp. “Do it. Suck me.”

Colin released him. “Since when do you give the orders?”

Andrew looked down, silver-blue eyes gleaming, then swiped his tongue over his top lip. “My apologies.”

“Keep your hands on the wall,” Colin said with a growl, “and let me do as I please.”

“Aye,” Andrew whispered as he obeyed. A tremor went through him, one Colin recognized as anticipation mixed with the bliss of submission.

He set about devouring Andrew’s cock with a ferocity he couldn’t mute. Back when they’d first started dating, Andrew had loved when Colin took control. He’d loved when things got rough. He’d begged for it.

But after Colin had been stabbed saving Andrew from abduction, the sex between them had turned safe and tame. For the last three months, Andrew had taken the lead in bringing them to orgasm—carefully, so as not to tax Colin’s strength or put him at risk for injury.

Colin had found their new tenderness sweetly satisfying, and there was a lot to be said for a combination sponge bath/hand job. But lately he’d been dying to pin Andrew down and pound his arse into oblivion. Just like old times.

When Andrew’s knees began to buckle, Colin stood up, bringing their bodies close together. “Don’t move.” He reached down and opened Andrew’s sporran, hoping to find him as well prepared as ever. Sure enough, the pouch contained the ever-present handkerchief—which“a gentleman always carries”—along with a silky-wrapped premium condom and single-serving packet of lube. “Good lad.”

Andrew gave another pretend gasp of horror. “Here? In view of the entire Kingdom of Fife?”

“They’ll not be watching us.” Colin turned Andrew around and pushed him against the wall. “We’ll be watching them.”

Colin lifted the hem of Andrew’s kilt and tucked it into his waistband out of the way. The sight of those round cheeks, bared to the world beneath the bright red plaid, made Colin’s cock swell with need, and he nearly dropped the lube packet in opening it.

He fondled Andrew with both hands, one soft and yielding as it cupped his balls, the other slick and stiff as it explored him from the inside. Andrew moaned, fingers curling against the stone.

Finally Colin stepped back and undid his trousers. “I’m gonnae fuck you now. It’s gonnae be hard and fast, and I’m gonnae hold you down so you cannae move.”

Andrew quivered in response. “Yes. I’ve missed that.” His back arched, jutting out his arse in invitation.

Colin rolled on the condom and slathered it with the last of the lube. Then he positioned himself at Andrew’s entrance, feeling it give way eagerly. “Okay?”

“Okay.” Andrew looked back over his shoulder. “Are you sure you’re—oh!”

Colin drove deep on the first thrust. The rush of sensation flared out through his entire body.

“God, yes.” Andrew’s voice held an ache that erased all doubt. “Fuck me.”

With both hands Colin held Andrew’s hips still as he thrust again and again. At first he kept his eyes down, admiring the sway of the kilt’s material as their bodies slammed together. Then he leaned forward, wrapping his arms tight around Andrew’s waist and pressing his teeth to Andrew’s neck.

“I missed this too,” he gasped. “I missed fucking you so hard you cannae feel your feet.”

Andrew seemed past all words now, emitting sounds that formed careless syllables. Colin lifted him up on his toes and bent him over the wall. Andrew reached forward, his graceful, manicured fingers clutching the ancient stone block. For a moment Colin imagined how this would look from the outside—a dirt-poor commoner bending a lord over a castle parapet, making him beg for the jackhammering of a lifetime.

Just the thought sent him spiraling toward orgasm. He could tell Andrew was close too, and he knew just what it took—or at least what itusedto take—to make him come so hard he’d go blind.

Colin lowered Andrew, letting his feet go flat on the stone floor again. Then he seized Andrew’s wrists and held them behind his back with one hand, burying the other in Andrew’s thick, golden-brown hair.

“Yes.” Andrew turned his head to the side, letting Colin press his face to the stone. Colin took care not to push so hard that the cold, rough surface would scrape Andrew’s skin. He couldn’t understand how anyone would enjoy being powerless, but it seemed to work for Andrew. And if it didn’t, he would simply give their safe word,foosball.

Instead Andrew murmured urgent encouragement as Colin held him down and rammed into him, on and on, harder and faster.

Suddenly Andrew’s body began to quake. His moan turned to a near scream. “Oh! God, yes. Colin…”

“Colin, what?” he asked, slowing his pace to torment Andrew.

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