Page 50 of Unlocked Dive
“I don’t want to hurt you,” I blurt, and his taut features melt into a faint smile.
“With your massive cock? I promise I can take it.”
I don’t correct him, even though he’s only touched on part of my fear. In the lingering silence, he crawls toward me and reaches out to hook his fingers in my jeans. He tugs me gently forward until my thighs hit the edge of the bed and starts undoing the buttons of my fly.
“You won’t hurt me,” he promises, and I want to believe him.
He slides my jeans and underwear down my thighs, and my cock springs free, obviously immune to my internal struggle. His warm fingers wrap around my base, firm and familiar. “I won’t hurt you either,” he says, then takes me in his mouth.
It’s one of his indolent blow jobs, working me with his spit-slick hand and his ruthless, ravishing tongue without ever settling into a steady rhythm. The build is so slow and delirious that when he finally takes me to the back of his throat, slick muscle constricting around my crown, my orgasm catches me off guard, and my knees buckle, only his strong arms locked around my thighs keeping me afloat.
“Shit.”
He pulls off with a softpopand rests his chin in the short curls at the base of my softening cock, looking up at me with a lazy, self-satisfied smile.
“I have faith in your ability to rally.”
My reaction to the sex-smeared look on his face is already proving him right.
I peel off my shirt and step out of my jeans, retrieving the condom from my pocket before crawling up to join him on thebed. I set it on the nightstand next to the bottle of lube Echo has liberated from the bag.
He’s sprawled on his stomach, watching me over his shoulder with his head pillowed on his arms. Every contour of muscle and flesh is a path carved of desire. The athletic swell of his traps bleeding into the vulnerable shadow of his neck. The long grooves along his spine dipping to the decadent arc of his ass. The valleys behind his knees and the soft down on his inner thighs.
With lips and tongue and light, trailing fingertips, I draw a map of sighs and whimpers, of quivers and sweat and arching moans. A catalog of Echo burned into my soul.
For the rest of my life, I’ll remember him like this, stripped to the raw bones of his arousal, unraveled by my touch.
By the time I spread his cheeks and flatten my tongue over his hole, he’s cursing incoherently and I’m hard as a rock.
I’ve barely breached his entrance before he’s rocking back, fucking himself on my tongue with his fists clawing at the quilt.
“Byrd,” he begs, almost a sob. “Please.”
“Roll over.” I sit back on my thighs, and he instantly obeys. His whole body is flushed, pupils blown to limitless black, his cock swollen and leaking on his belly.
He’s ethereal, obscene, and achingly vulnerable, and I’m so far past the point of no return with him, I can feel the edges of my heart flying away.
“Condom,” I say before my brain can follow. He fumbles the packet off the table, holding it out to me. “You do it,” I tell him. “It’s been a while.”
He comes back to himself a little at that, smiling like a cat and tearing through the foil with his teeth and a practiced jerk that’s so sexy, I have to squeeze the base of my cock so I don’t lose it the second he touches me. Then he rolls the cool latex overmy head and down my shaft, and I can’t tear my gaze away from his dexterous fingers. It’s new and nostalgic all at once, but even through my fatal fascination, I can’t help wondering what it would feel like to take him bare.
Then he starts coating my cock with lube, and all my thoughts condense to the one vivid realization that this isnow, and it’s happening—here, with him.
I hold out my hand for the bottle, to coat my fingers and stretch him ready, but he tosses it away.
“No more,” he says, a line drawn in a man’s voice. “You’ve been prepping me forweeks. I want your cock inside me now. I’m done with teasing.”
And I’d give him everything, anything he asked, so I hook an elbow under his thigh and line my trembling cock up with his waiting hole.
The first thrust is almost enough to destroy me—my cockhead trapped by the tight ring of muscle as he arches off the bed with a cry.
Fuck.Instinctively, I try to draw back, although I might die if we stop now.
His free leg comes around me, trapping my hips and obliterating my retreat.
“You said I wouldn’t hurt you.” I force the words through gritted teeth, fingers digging into his thigh and my other arm braced on the mattress, fighting the need to fall into him.
“I lied.” But he bears down, drawing me deeper, and his hand comes up to tangle in my hair. “Not every pain is hurtful, Byrd. This pain—it’salwayspart of it. It makes it real. Makes itmatterwhen you let someone into your body.” He tugs my head down until we’re close enough to kiss. “Someday, I’ll show you,” he promises, “but right now, I need you to keep going. Please. Trustme.”
