Like last time, there’s the burn, and then it slowly eases away.
I suck another mark onto his skin. “You’re good at this.”
“I’ve had lots of experience.”
I smirk. “I guess we’ve got plenty of time for me to get experienced too.”
He claims my mouth again, getting more confident as he stretches and rubs at places I’ve never realized could be so much fun. My ass is buzzing, and the more he works me open, the more it makes my cock throb. Like it’s a secret agreement between my ass and my balls. When one of us is having fun, we’re all having fun. And goddammit, this is fun.
I start rocking my hips back onto his digits, wanting him deeper, feeling all kinds of filthy and horny and desperate.
“I think it’s time for you to fuck me now,” I say.
“Not yet.”
“Trippy,” I whine. “You’re supposed to love me. Why are you torturing me like this?”
“I haven’t even begun, babe. Ready for the showstopper?”
“The w—” Tripp presses deep, and suddenly, my whole ass lights up. “Ah. Fuck.” I have no idea why my voice is making that noise, but how can I even start to think about that when he’s blowing my brains out?
I’m vaguely aware of a soft chuckle as Tripp pulls his fingers out, and when he goes to move away, I grip him to me.
“No. Do it again.” I grind my cock up into his abs, and yes, that’s the spot.
“Geez, give me a sec.” He reaches for the condom, and I have to wait an unreasonable amount of time for him to tear it open and roll it down his magnificent cock. “You ready?”
I answer by whining and pulling my knees up.
He covers his smile with his hand as he rubs lube over his cock. “You should see how you look.”
“Sexy?”
Tripp groans. “You have no idea. You literally have no idea. If I die right here and now and your face is the last thing I see, I will have no regrets.”
I preen at his roundabout praise even though he’s talking about death. “If you are going to die, can you at least make sure I come first? Thanks.”
“Hold on, baby. Things are about to get real.”
Twenty-Four
TRIPP
Fuck. Things are getting too real, but am I going to stop? No way.
Everything I’ve ever wanted, everything I’ve ever dreamed of, is splayed out beneath me, begging for my dick.
The surge of possession courses through me. I want to own Dex. I want him to be mine for real. It’s difficult to remind myself of what this is—fun experimenting. Besties being together while not really being together.
A PR stunt gone too far.
My heart giving in.
After this, there will be no other men for me. No one would be able to live up to the pedestal I keep Dex on.
And that’s why I’ve refrained from doing this. From taking this step. Because I know I will fall apart after it’s done. This is just another notch on the Tripp Mitchell belt of heartache when it comes to Dex Mitchale.
“Tripp.” Dex’s needy, gravelly voice gives me new energy. It lifts me up while longing tries to push me down.
I have to get through this. It has to last, and I need to make sure I take note of every sound he makes, every face he pulls. Every and any indication of pleasure, I have to commit to memory. Because I wasn’t being dramatic when I said I could die happy. I might even prefer it because I know what comes next.
Sure, we’ll keep up this charade for the media, for our team, and for everyone else. But there will never come a time where I can legitimately call Dex mine, and taking this step—being inside him and owning his body—will only make the downfall more painful.
“I need you,” Dex whispers.
He’s saying all the right things, everything I’ve only ever dreamed of him saying, and I can’t hold back any longer.
I grab one of his strong thighs and wrap it around my waist while I position my cock at his entrance.
As I begin to press inside him, slowly and so fucking carefully, I watch as his face contorts. First at the discomfort and then with determination. His eyes are closed in concentration, but I want him to see me. To know that I’m the one above him. He’s taking my cock, and we’re doing this. Together.
“Look at me,” I say softly.
His deep brown eyes meet mine, and I swear my heart stops.
“Breathe,” I coach.
Dex’s lips part, and he sucks in a breath. I take advantage of his open mouth and close mine over it. My tongue dives in while I keep easing my cock inside the tightest damn ass I’ve ever experienced.
Dex grunts, and I quickly break my mouth away and lean up on my elbow.
“You okay?”
He nods.
“Can you talk?”
A shake of his head now.
“I’ll let you adjust.”
“No. Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.” Dex’s desperation almost has me slamming home, but I don’t want to hurt him.
“Relax for me.”
He does, and I move a little deeper before pausing again.
“Tell me what to do to make this good for you,” he says.
My beautiful Dex. “It’s already the best sex of my life.”
Happiness explodes deep in my gut because I’m not even lying. After years of fighting my need for him, after telling myself this will never happen … I get to have Dex in a way I never thought I could.
“I never thought this could happen,” I say. “Ever. I’ve thought about it for so long.”
Dex cocks his head. “You have?”
I’m dangerously close to word vomiting my feelings for him, and now is not the time. I’m not sure there ever will be a time to tell him the whole truth that I’m so deeply in love with him there’s no coming back from it.
“I’m a hot-blooded gay man, and you’re gorgeous. Inside and out.” I lean down and kiss the tip of his nose.
“I bet if I’d thought about it, I would have tried to make this happen sooner.”
I want to believe him, but I’m not sure I do. We’re here because of happenstance.
I press a soft kiss to Dex’s jaw. “Tell me when you’re good.”
“I’m good. So good. I don’t think I’ve ever been gooder.”
I huff a laugh and close my hand around his cock. I stroke slowly with a soft grip but then get tighter and faster the harder he gets.
“Actually, no. Now. Now I’m the goodest.” Dex’s voice squeaks.
I thrust inside him, trying to hold back the pleasure that rips through me. Being inside him meets all of my expectations and none of them at the same time. Never in my dreams did I have to hold back because, of course, in my dreams, this wasn’t Dex’s first time, and I could slam inside him with little to no prep. At the same time, holding back makes me appreciate the experience more than I thought I would.
Sex is sex.
It feels good. It’s about getting off. It’s not intimate or personal.
Sex with someone you’re head over heels in love with?
It’s not just sex.
It’s everything.