Alec had no idea what he’d said last night. But he knew exactly what Dylan was talking about.
“You mean this?” he said, and brushed the sensitive bundle again.
Dylan stiffened and dropped his forehead to the mattress. “God, yes,” he said. “Just…yes.”
With the addition of a third digit, Dylan grew impatient. So Alec increased the pace, and Dylan seemed satisfied. But not for long. Soon the rock of his hips was as much about taking more of Alec’s fingers as seeking friction against the bed.
“Alec,” Dylan whispered hoarsely, his fingers gripping the headboard. “What the hell are you waiting for?”
Need and anticipation pounded through him, and Alec briefly pressed his lids closed. Struggling to rein in his emotions, he applied the condom and some more lube. With one hand he lined up his cock at Dylan’s asshole and, as gently as he could, eased inside.
The taut muscles gripped his cock, remained tight, and then Alec breached the ring, sinking deeper. His eyes nearly crossed from the pleasurable pressure and the heat and damn, damn, damn he needed to get his act together before he completely lost control.
He settled for low, shallow thrusts to get Dylan used to the sensation of being filled beyond capacity, gradually taking more as he increased the pace. Sweat glistened along Dylan’s back. Drawn by the sight, Alec tasted the salt-sweat of his shoulder. He couldn’t see Dylan’s face to gauge whether or not he was hurting. But the silence from Dylan was a change from before.
“Are you in pain?” Alec asked.
“No,” Dylan said, his voice tight. “It’s just not….”
Alec lifted Dylan’s hips, pulling the man to all fours. “On your elbows, Dylan,” Alec said, hand gently pressing on Dylan’s back.
Dylan complied, placing his elbows on the bed, ass high in the air. And, Christ, the sight nearly did Alec in. Once Alec controlled his breathing again, he pulled back, palm pressed between Dylan shoulder blades, and thrust deep.
“There,” Dylan yelped. “Right goddamn there.”
The new angle allowed Alec to hit Dylan’s prostate with almost every stroke. At least Alec thought so because the mewling sounds now escaping Dylan’s mouth with every thrust had the high-pitched, keening sound of one about to blow his load.
“Oh God,” Dylan said with a shaky breath, lowering his face to the bed. “I can’t…”
Everything about Dylan’s position—forehead pressed against the sheets, legs spread—screamed for more. The sight almost pushed Alec over the brink. But the words coming in pants from Dylan’s mouth now left Alec concerned.
“Can’t what?” Alec continued to pump his hips.
Over his shoulder, Dylan looked up at Alec. Eyes wild, cheeks flushed, mouth parted and gasping, Dylan looked like a man on edge. And the vision, the very fact that Alec was the one who could bring Dylan to such a state, thrilled Alec to the core. But the word can’t slipped from Dylan again, bringing Alec back to reality.
Alec pulled back until his erection almost popped free but couldn’t bring himself to withdraw completely. He hated the thought of disappointing Dylan as much as he hated the thought of bringing this to an end.
“Do you want me to stop?” Alec asked.
Sweet Jesus let him say no.
Chapter Seven
Too far gone to mutter a hell no, Dylan reached back and pulled on Alec’s hip until his cock was buried to the hilt. The small bundle of hungry nerves went haywire again, as if they’d been waiting forever for this particular meal, and Dylan’s lids fluttered closed.
God, this was worth the initial discomfort. So friggin’ worth it.
Chest heaving, he kept his hand clamped on Alec, their bodies pressed tight as Dylan fought off the orgasm that threatened to come too soon.
Last night during their grinding session, Alec’s teasing fingers on Dylan’s hole had been a revelation. Between the sensation and Alec’s words, a picture of them in this very position had popped into Dylan’s brain, and he’d instantly shot his load. The fantasy had surprised the hell out of him.
Through the years, he’d enjoyed more than his fair share of blowjobs and rubbing one out with a woman. His past experiences made it easy to write off last night’s pleasurable activities as understandable, even familiar.
But this? Dylan dug his fingertips into Alec’s hip, holding him close. This he’d never considered before.
Dylan finally felt in control enough to groan out the words. “Don’t. Fucking. Stop.”
A breath whooshed from Alec, his hand steadying Dylan at his back.
“Thank God,” Alec rasped out.
And then he began to fuck Dylan in earnest, Alec’s lean hips digging deep, deep, deep.