Page 73 of The Trade Deadline
“Holy—” Ryan whimpered, his body unsure whether he wanted to pull away from the sensation of too much or push in and beg for more. “Lasse,” he gasped, then whined pathetically when Lars pulled off him.
Lars mumbled something in Swedish, resting his forehead against Ryan’s hip.
Ryan ran a hand through his hair patiently. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” Ryan could feel the warm air hitting him with each word, sending goosebumps down his leg. “I justreallylike it when you call me that.”
A thrill went through him, making him feel as tipsy as the beer had. “You shouldn’t give me that kind of power, y’know.”
“You already have it.” Lars pressed a kiss, another. “The only thing that changed is now you know it.”
Before Ryan could properly unpack that, Lars had taken his dick back into his mouth. No longer satisfied with just the head, he began to bob up and down, taking more in each time until he’d taken him all in. He stayed there, tongue working along his shaft but otherwise still. It drove Ryan crazy, and his cock jerked in Lars’s mouth. He could feel it then, the way the head hit the back of Lars’s throat and it was all he could do not to thrust greedily into his mouth again and again.
“Lars,” he warned. “I’m close. Touch yourself.”
That earned him an appreciative hum and the exquisite view of Lars pushing aside his boxers to take himself in hand. He matched the movements of his head with his hand, and Ryan barely let himself blink because he didn’t want to miss a second. He was so entranced, his impending orgasm took him by surprise.
“Lars—” He said more urgently. “Lasse, fuck, I?—”
Lars didn’t pull away. He brought his free hand up to cup Ryan’s balls, the extra sensation enough to send Ryan instantly over the edge. He couldn’t stop the few aborted thrusts into Lars’s pliant mouth as he came, endless spurts shooting right down his throat. Even after Ryan finished, Lars kept his mouth on him, not pulling off as he moaned through his own release.
When he came off with a wet pop, Lars sat back on his heels and licked his lips. “I made you curse,” he said smugly.
Boneless, it was all Ryan could do to collapse against the air hockey table instead of onto the floor. “Probably the least interesting part of what just happened,” he managed.
“I knew I could make you come,” Lars argued. Despite how sure he sounded, he looked shaky as he stood up. “Didn’t know it was possible to make you curse.”
Ryan gave him a half-hearted glare that melted when Lars wrapped his arms around him. He bore Ryan’s weight easily and dragged him in for a kiss. Ryan could taste the tanginess of his own release, but instead of pulling away he deepened the kiss because wow, that had just happened.
Again.
“It was definitely better than Geneva,” he muttered when they pulled apart.
“I’m glad to have cleared the low bar of drunk teenage me,” Lars said dryly.
Ryan kissed his neck and breathed him in. They fit together so well. “Sleep?” he suggested, then yawned. He was beat. Not even the giddiness of having Lars in his arms would be enough to keep him going much longer.
“You really do get tired after, don’t you?” Lars teased. He wound their hands together and started leading him to the bedroom. “Let’s get you cleaned up and in bed. I promise I’ll be there when you wake up.”
Chapter23
Lars
Normally,Lars dreamed. He couldn’t usually remember a damn thing after, only the vaguest impression he’d been somewhere or doing something, but enough that he knew he’d dreamed. It was his marker for a good night's sleep.
Lars hadn’t dreamed much since Portland. And for a while before leaving Portland, too. He hadn’t been doing well towards the end. He’d wake up, feeling like he’d just closed his eyes.
Settling into Baltimore had helped a bit, though the start of the season made him dog tired, and any bad nights quickly stacked up to make him more and more exhausted.
Last night, he’d dreamed. A lot.
He had no idea of what. The only thing that lingered was the vivid sensation of skating and the clear brown of Ryan’s eyes, the rest of the details a murky mess that slipped away before he could try to grasp them. He was content with what he had, though, and he sighed as he burrowed deeper into his blankets to enjoy the last few moments of bliss before he woke up alone.
Of course, burrowing deeper into his blankets actually meant pulling Ryan closer to his chest and burying his face in his hair.
“Oh,” he gasped, disentangling the dreams from the memories of the very real night he’d spent with Ryan. He’d been half hard before, but the promise of a warm body sent a bolt of lust through him. Lars rocked forward, pleased to feel bare skin against bare skin, and slid his left arm up Ryan’s chest. He traced a nipple, felt Ryan shudder against him, and then continued upward until his hand rested lightly but possessively around his neck.
“Can I fuck you?” he asked as he mouthed at Ryan’s neck, alternating between sucking and kissing at the sensitive skin there. He kept thrusting, enjoying the feel of his cock sliding along the cleft of Ryan’s ass.
