Page 73 of Candy Hearts
William must have been able to read his mind, because he rolled Benji over and said, “Yes.”
They wrestled around for long minutes, pulling clothes partially out of the way. After a moment of frustration that he couldn’t feel William’s cock against his own, Benji sat up abruptly, straddling William’s legs.
But they’d somehow moved to the edge of the dock in their shuffle, and Benji overbalanced. He flailed. William tried to grab him, but the momentum knocked Benji for a loop and he tumbled right off the dock into shallow, muddy water. He landed on his side but managed to roll to his hands and knees immediately.
William gasped and stared down at him, his eyes luminous behind his glasses.
“Are you okay?”
The water was only about two feet deep. Benji stood up slowly, mud squelching under his hiking boots. (He was a country boy now—he owned hiking boots.)
“Fine,” Benji bit out.
“Can this be one of those little disasters we’re always talking about?” William asked, visibly trying to stifle his laughter.
Benji glared and stomped out of the lake, not even trying to crawl back onto the dock, just marched through cattails and dead grass to reach the shore. William caught up with Benji as he made it to the back door. Benji toed off his boots, shucked his sweatpants down, and whipped off his jacket and sweatshirt, throwing the latter at William’s face. All the clothes were wet and muddy.
Benji was shivering slightly from the cold, but his skin heated as William stared at him in the starlight. A lamp on in the house cast a square of light onto the ground, but Benji moved away from it, preferring the dark.
William pulled his fuzzy shirt off and gently dropped it over Benji’s head, swathing him in it.
Caretaking like that mushed up Benji’s insides. Made him pliant and so incredibly happy it hurt.
“I’ll get mud on it.”
“I don’t mind,” William said. Then William’s lips were on Benji’s neck, on the hollow under his ear, his temple, his chin. His mouth.
Benji let it take him under. He was standing there in nothing but a baby pink cotton thong and a fuzzy sweatshirt. It was cold and he was wet, but this shot up his list of top five ways to spend an evening.
One—having the love of his life slowly strip his thong off and jerk Benji’s cock with it wrapped around his hand.
Two—pizza.
No wait.
Two—rim jobs.
William turned Benji until his chest was pressed to the wall of the house, then dropped to his knees behind him. William used the soft cotton of the underwear on Benji’s cock, giving him all kinds of textures and pressures.
“Hold yourself open for me, my love.”
Heat flared through Benji. He treasured the sweet things William called him. He loved the dirty ones too, but nothing, absolutely nothing, was as wonderful as “my love.”
Benji pulled his cheeks apart, and William dove in. The wind rustled the branches of the tree on the side of the house and raised goosebumps on Benji’s legs.
William moaned as his tongue painted a stripe up Benji’s crack.
“So good,” Benji whispered. “You’re so good, William.”
William fisted Benji’s cock, gripping it hard. They’d had a year together to practice this. To learn each other. To fall more and more in love, and damn, but William was amazing at it.
“Love, oh fuck. I love you,” Benji cried out as William thrust his tongue into Benji’s hole.
William pulled back. “Do you, now? Is it because I’m awesome at rim jobs?”
They’d started their relationship a year ago with rimming. Felt like they’d come full circle.
Benji laughed breathlessly and turned around, practically tackling William to the ground. William’s pants were open from their tussle on the dock. Benji wrenched them down.
