There were no more words Quinn could find on his tongue. Something molten built up in the churn of his balls, and it licked up his cock, arching up in a rush to find release. Trembling, Quinn thrust again, rocking his hips over and over into Rafe’s ass, barely aware of the sting of Rafe’s nails scoring his arms.
“Shit, going to lose it, Q.” Rafe reached for himself, tightening his fingers over his own cock. He twisted and pulled, working his length in time to Quinn’s pounding. Something broke in Rafe, and he cried out, clenching down on Quinn hard enough to pull at Quinn’s soul.
The hot gush hit Quinn’s face, and he gasped, surprised at the pungent thickness of Rafe’s spill. A dab of his tongue swiped through the fluid on his lip, and Rafe’s essence bloomed in Quinn’s throat, drowning out everything beyond.
Rafe’s taste in his mouth was enough to send Quinn over, and he shook with the force of his release, unable to hold himself any longer as his cock felt like it was splitting apart. He came, hard and fast, until Quinn wondered numbly if he would ever stop. The wave struck him hard, and Quinn went under, drowning in the release. A moment later, he collapsed onto Rafe’s stomach, gasping at the shivers rippling through him.
He was sad to feel himself slide free. Physics be damned, he wanted to stay inside of Rafe for as long as he could—forever if possible. One way or another, Quinn knew he needed Rafe—with him, around him, and even in him.
Especially in him.
Rafe sighed, a heartfelt, nearly mournful noise, when Quinn slid over onto the bed next to him. Reaching out, he found Quinn’s hand and carded their fingers together. They lay there, naked and covered in sweat and spend, bodies stretched to the limit. Catching a hitch in his chest, Quinn matched Rafe’s sigh with one of his own.
“You okay there, magpie?” Rafe squeezed Quinn’s hand. “’Cause I’ve gotta admit, you’ve fucked my brains out.”
“Better than okay, babe.” Quinn tested out the word, rolling it over his tongue. “So much better than okay, and I can’t wait to do it again.”
Chapter 14
Living Room Session
Damie: Sinjun, ordering some Chinese. You want moo shu pork?
Miki: What the fuck is that?
D: Pork, like bits of pork with some egg. You eat it with little pancakes… sort of pancakes. They’re… flat.
M: So it’s kind of like a Chinese breakfast taco?
D: No… yes. Shit. Dude, do you want some or not?
M: Sure, why not. I like tacos.
D: Do you want tacos?
M: Yeah, but you wanted Chinese. This way, we both get what we want. Compromise, D. It’s what brotherhood’s all about.
THE MORNING came with a scatter of cloudy nightmares, soft whispers of images and sounds Quinn easily fought back into their own darkness. They were familiar anxieties, time-worn, aged playthings his mind threw back up at him when he wasn’t looking. He woke to the sound of his own breathing, forced out of his tangled thoughts by a single push of consciousness. It’d been a long time since he’d had to shed sleep to shake off the demons he had inside of him.
Or at least he’d once thought they were demons. Now he wasn’t so sure.
Rafe. He’d woken up with Rafe wrapped around him, cuddled up behind his shoulders and breathing into his hair. Quinn still had the taste of Rafe in his mouth, around his cock if he was going to be honest with himself. That honesty was hard to accept… hard to imagine, especially since he’d been imagining it for years. Long, cold, and lonely years.
“You’re thinking too hard there, magpie,” Rafe rasped. “Go back to sleep. It’s got to be, like, four in the morning.”
“It’s….” Quinn leaned forward to check the digital clock ticking time off on a credenza next to the bed. “Ten. It’s ten in the morning.”
“Gotta be four someplace. Go back to bed, baby.” Rafe’s voice grew muddled, drawn back down into sleep. “Or at least let me go back to bed.”
“That I can do.” Quinn waited until he heard Rafe’s breathing even off, then allowed himself another minute of the man’s embrace. He liked the power in Rafe’s arms, enjoyed the strength in his hands when they’d roamed over, pressed into him, and delved deep into Quinn’s heat.
The sex had been… extraordinary, a windswept blur of emotions and sensations Quinn couldn’t absorb all at once. He’d been left boneless and weary after he’d come, sheathed in Rafe’s ass, but his lover’d been playful afterward, teasing Quinn into a semihardened state with a few licks of his tongue and an oiled finger toying at Quinn’s rim. They’d tangled again, hands and mouths learning each other’s bodies until they’d peaked, pouring into one another’s throats and nearly choking with laughter.
It’d been never since he’d laughed like that. Effortless… sweet… and most of all, unguarded.
He could just… be around Rafe. No modifying behavior, no stopping and asking himself if he said the right thing or missed the meaning of something. He had a freedom with Rafe he’d never had with anyone before.
The idea of it made Quinn nearly giddy.