Chapter 73
Scooter inhaled, painfully hard. “Jesus, Andy,” he said. I am falling in love with you, so hard. He leaned down, claimed Andy’s mouth, hard and fierce, driving his tongue inside and tasting everything, leaving no part untouched. His hands roamed, stroking every inch of skin. He shoved an arm under Andy’s back, to pull them closer, wanting to bite and mark and dig in his nails until he was right under Andy’s skin.
He groped around behind him on the bed for the lube, paused in his invasion of Andy’s mouth only long enough to tear the packet open with his teeth. He didn’t have the mental capacity left for words, barely enough for finesse, and he squirted the gel against Andy’s asshole. Shaking with the need to be kind, gentle, to make it good, he circled his finger around the tight pucker, watching Andy’s face with intensity.
Andy was vocal in his pleasure, sighs and gasps and shuddering moans that Scooter wanted to listen to forever. He wasn’t shy about offering suggestions or praise or demands, either, as fully invested in his own pleasure as Scooter was. It was weirdly comforting, the couple of times he told Scooter to slow down, to take things down a notch—knowing Andy wouldn’t simply endure discomfort was a relief in mind, if not Scooter’s aching prick. Andy practically wailedwhen Scooter found his prostate, loud enough they probably heard him all the way down at the water’s edge. Christ, he was beautiful. By the time Scooter had worked up to three fingers, Andy was sweating and shivering and babbling a constant stream of encouragement and begging. “Ready, I’m ready, c’mon, I need it, please.”
Scooter pulled free, careful. Found the condom (thank God it hadn’t disappeared into the blankets with all the squirming around they’d done). Took one last taste of Andy’s cock, because it was damn hard to resist it, so pretty. Long enough to satisfy, not quite thick enough to be really arrogant. Perfect
Scooter was so hard, so damn ready, and his hands were trembling so much with need that it took him a few attempts to get the condom on. “Hold your legs open for me, darlin’,” Scooter said, getting them lined up, brushing the swollen head of his cock against Andy’s hole, teasing again, because damn, those noises…he could probably get off just listening to them.
Andy hooked his hands under his knees and pulled them up and wide. “Come on, honey,” he begged. “Need you so bad, want you now.” His skin was flushed and glistening and his eyes were near-black with desperate lust.
Scooter gritted his teeth with the need to hold on. God, it’d been so long, and he had been dancing on the edge of wanting for weeks. Scooter rocked in, breached that ring of muscle, still tight, hot and slick. He took hold of Andy’s hips, changing the angle just a little. Andy’s expressive groans shook him to his core; the tight clench of Andy’s body was outrageous, sweet and dirty and oh, so right.
“I got you, I got you, baby,” Scooter said. He had to hand it to Andy with a bow and a flourish, nothing about this man was ordinary. Even as he sunk in, losing himself to animal need, he was changing. Every cell in his body was melting into liquid desire and when—later—he pulled himself away from Andy’s heat and fire, he’d be forever marked by it.
But that was later, and now, now, Andy was in his arms, and he was flush inside Andy’s body. He shuddered, kissed Andy with reverence. “You good?”
Andy stretched his neck up to claim another kiss, slow and sweet, and rocked his body a little, testing. “Yeah,” he said, breathless, “I’m good. Start slow, though, yeah?”
Slow. God, it was torture, the miracle of Andy’s body clenched tight around him. He stayed where he was, shifting gently, letting just the soft motions of his hips nudge them through short strokes, slow and easy, and when that wasn’t enough, he claimed Andy’s mouth and thrust his tongue inside, fierce and eager, mimicking the coupling his body was urging him toward, letting that be enough until Andy bucked up to meet him.
“Oh…” Scooter was shaking, his arms quivering as he kept himself balanced over Andy’s body. “Oh, God.” He groaned, kissed Andy again, and again, wanting everything, wanting Andy to give him everything. “So fucking perfect.”
He pulled back, the liquid slide so captivating that Scooter was breathless from it. Scooter threw back his head, blood pounding in his temples, then slid back in, sinking himself into that velvet clutch. He wasn’t deep enough, wanted more, more, and rocked his hips, grinding deep inside, pulling Andy’s hips up to meet him. Slow. Deep. God, so good
“Fuck, you’re perfect,” Andy groaned. “So sweet…You, when you’re—more, oh God, yes, more.”
Scooter let out a low, guttural moan, as animalistic as it was needy. He kissed Andy again, he couldn’t get enough of that mouth, wanted to have Andy’s lips on him, as he lost track of everything else except the need to drive in, to thrust and rock and fuck. He was aware of everything, the way Andy shook and trembled around him. Too soon, too soon. He never wanted it to end, but he didn’t see how he could help that, because it was fucking perfect and too much and it had been so long…Too soon, even as he pulled back and slammed in again, he was going to…
“Oh, God, baby, tell me you’re close, I want you to feel so good and…” Scooter panted for breath, struggling to get himself under control. He pushed back, cool air dragging between them, soothing his overheated skin. Got a hand on Andy’s cock and stroked.