Page 43 of Shield
When he had me on my back, hands pinned over my head, he moved just so. The head of his cock slid downward, under my balls, and settled there. I was mindless with lust at this point, unwilling to dither around trying to assert dominance any longer. His hips flickered. His fat cockhead pressed against my hole.
“Fuck me,” I gasped, arching up off the bed to try to get him inside me. All pretense was gone. I needed to be fucked. I needed to fuck him. “Lube and condoms… drawer… dresser.”
“Stay there, do not move.” He left the bed, raced to my dresser, and upended two drawers of socks and underwear, searching. “You asshole. You could tell me which drawer they’re in.”
“Nah, it’s way more fun to lie here with my prick in my hand and enjoy the sights.” And what a sight it was. That bubble butt of his was all kinds of delicious-looking. I had wild plans to spread those meaty cheeks, then spear him with my cock over and over until he begged me to come inside him.
He laughed, then found what he was searching for in my T-shirt drawer. I enjoyed the sight of him returning to me, the tube of lube in one hand, rope of condoms in the other.
“Just for making me search, I’m going to fuck you twice as long,” he announced as he kneeled beside me.
“Your threats need work, Cowboy,” I said, my gaze roaming over him, then stopping at the small white patch on his biceps. “Are you good?”
He gave me the oddest look. “I like to think so.”
It took me a second. “Oh, no, not… no, I wasn’t asking if you were a good fuck. I meant with your sugar and all. Are you good? Do we need to get some food or something in here? Candy or something. No, candy is bad. Right?”
Shit, I really needed to hone up on my diabetic knowledge. Oliver, being a great guy, kissed me senseless, worked his thigh between mine, and found my opening with two thick, slick fingers.
“I’m good, but thanks for asking, and worrying.”
My body thrummed with want as he began to work me open, his fingers spreading wide, then twisting time and again.
“Don’t want you… to pass out… crucial moment. Fuck! Christ. Shit. Damn, that is… right there. Yeah, candy is dandy, but a prostate tickle is quicker.” He chortled at my ramblings. “I’m punch drunk for cock. Get inside me, Oliver.”
“You cops are so bossy,” he said, tsked, and moved over me. I rested a foot on his shoulder, and one on his lower back, as he pushed into me. The burn was intense. “Breathe, baby.”
“I am… breathing. Your cock… is enormous.”
“Flattery will get you thoroughly ransacked,” he huffed, eased out, and then moved back in. This happened time and again, each thrust in a little deeper until he was buried to the hilt. “Breathe, baby, just breathe.”
I loved the sound of that word rushing out of him as he battled to maintain control.Baby.I’d never been anyone’s baby before. I arched up, then clenched. He trembled, growled, and then began giving me the ransacking he’d promised. The man had tremendous stamina. His legs were strong, powering him like twin pistons that pumped endlessly. My flagging cock sprang back into life when his fat cockhead found my prostate. Windless and senseless from the fucking I was getting, I whimpered and whined, gasped and groaned. Somehow, in the fury of our joining, I managed to get a hand on my cock. The other was above my head, keeping my skull from kissing my thrift shop headboard.
The room was thick with the sounds and scents of sex. Oliver was purposeful off the ice, just as he was on it. Sweat ran to the tip of his nose, then fell to my chest. That was what pushed me over. The sight of his perspiration dropping to my sweaty pectoral. I cried out something, no clue what, as a fire lit at the base of my spine. My balls contracted, my dick swelled, and I tumbled into the light. Cum pulsed out of me, coating my fingers and speckling my belly.
“So pretty. That’s it, come for me, baby,” Oliver ground out while pushing in for one final soul-searing thrust. His head snapped back as he came. A glorious sight I hoped I got to witness for years to come.
Yeah, I was greedy. And so head over heels nuts over this man that I dared to dream of a future together. Me. Jackson Winwood. Had fallen in love. The man who couldn’t manage to keep a freaking plant alive was daring to fantasize about something as emotionally demanding as a—GULP!—relationship. What did I know about such things? Emotions required nurturing. They needed to be watered weekly with love, fertilized with respect, and given access to sunny windows. I tended to bring out the opposite of tender feelings in most people, got my liquid nutrition from a Wild Turkey bottle, and spent most of my time in the darkness with seedy people doing illegal things. I’d kill any kind of decent, normal relationship faster than Van Helsing would stake a vampire.
“Are you okay?” Oliver asked, his words heated puffs tickling my face.
“Yeah, no, good… best I’ve been in… fuck, forever I think,” I admitted, the candid reply easing the look of concern. “Kiss me?”
“Gladly,” he replied, lowering his mouth to mine as he eased out, and I knew the moment of intimacy and revelations had passed. “I need to…”
He waved at his latex-sheathed cock as he moved to the side.
“Oh right, the bathroom is across the hall. Can’t miss it. Only room in the place with a crapper.”
He stole one final kiss, then left me lying in my bed, ass tender, heart and mind befuddled. I eased up to a sitting position, keeping my sight on his glorious ass until he entered my tiny bathroom and closed the door. Funny how guys who’d been as intimate as us could still feel funny taking a leak in front of the other. Jittery now that the easy stuff was over, I got up, winced at the twang in my sore hole, and found the nearest dirty shirt to wipe the cooling spunk off my belly. Yeah, the sex stuff, that was easy. Hormone-driven, cock in the lead, no need to feel anything other than pleasure.
But the ball of whatever it was in my chest right now? Hell, that was tougher. This wad of emotion was the hardest thing ever, and it terrified me right down to my cells.
“Hey, are you sure you’re okay? I called your name a few times,” Oliver asked, his arms coming around me from behind. I started. He smelled of lime-green soap. His chest was toasty warm against my chilling back.
My first reaction was to make some sort of asshole wisecrack about how his enormous cock had left me senseless. And while that was true to an extent—although my bunghole was wishing it could claim to be numb—that was covering up where my head really was.
I melted into his arms, sighing like a spring debutante, and tried this once to be open.
