Page 104 of Puck Your Feelings
His eyes snap shut and it's the single most beautiful, most poetic "oh fuck" I've ever heard as I angle my fingers up, hitting what must be the perfect spot inside him.
The perfect spot inside the perfect man.
I rise from my heels to my knees, putting my free palm on the side of his ass for support, and quicken my pace, shovingmy fingers inside him faster now, establishing a rhythm, making sure to hit that spot every single time.
My breathing becomes uneven, my cock leaking as Becker falls apart in front of me, head dropping down, hips already pushing back, matching my rhythm, body silently screaming for more.
His mouth, though? All but silent, a stream of curses and moans and groans escaping him with every thrust of my fingers.
"You know," I say, breathless, "if it weren't for your tendency for media mishaps, I'd film you right now."
His voice comes out hoarse. "You can film me. I don't mind."
I chuckle. "And end up trending again? No, thank you."
He looks over his shoulder, eyes dark. "Kane? I'm ready."
My heart jumps into my throat. It's happening. It's really fucking happening.
I withdraw my fingers slowly, circling around his hole on the way out, making sure the skin there is slick. My hands start shaking again as I reach for the condom, becker watching over his shoulder, and I fumble with the wrapper, the foil slipping between my lube-slicked fingers.
Becker finds it appropriate to laugh. "Come on, now. You know this part already."
My cheeks burn, fingers shaking even worse as I fight with the wrapper.
Mercifully, Becker rises to his knees and spins around. "Let me, then."
He takes the condom from my hands, brings the corner between his teeth, and tears it open. He removes the condom, pinches the tip, and brings it to the head of my cock.
Before he does anything else, he asks, "Still sure?"
"I don't think I've ever been this sure in my life. About anything."
He nods and rolls the condom onto my aching cock, drawing a guttural groan from my throat. He reaches for the lube, squeezes the rest of it directly onto my shaft, and wraps his palm around it, giving me a few long, firm strokes.
And just as I think this is it, this is the most amazing I've ever felt, he leans forward and shoves his tongue deep into my mouth, giving me a single, scorching kiss.
"Kane?" he says after he breaks the kiss, face still close, looking straight into my eyes.
"Yeah?"
He smirks. "Fuck me."
Everything happens at once then—me groaning, his words shooting straight to my dick, Becker spinning back around and sticking his ass out again, already impatient, hips already rocking back.
I focus on breathing because if I don't, I'm going to pass the fuck out. I grab his ass cheek with one palm, fighting for a decent grip with my hand still slippery, wrap my fingers around the base of my cock, and align the head with his hole.
I pause, giving myself a second to calm down even a bit. But Becker's not having any of that, head whipping around, hips pushing back. "Come on, now. You need a manual for that as well?"
There's zero finesse about the way I enter him for the first time. I grit my teeth, pushing in, trying, fighting against the tightness og his hole while he curses, presumably from pain, but pushes his hips back regardless, until we both stop when I'm balls deep inside him.
I lose my balance, both palms landing on either side of his ribcage, propping myself on the floor, my head hovering inches above his, and for a few seconds, we stay like that, both panting, adjusting. Feeling.
Finally, he nods. "Okay."
My head is spinning, pleasure bordering on overwhelming as I pull my hips back ever so slightly, sliding halfway out before pushing back in with the kind of care and deliberate slowness that's impossible to maintain.
The moan that rips from his throat is sufficient reward for my efforts.
