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“Is this doing it for you, baby?” Garrett rubbed his cheek against Maxwell’s and stared into his eyes in their reflection. “Is this what you wanted?”
“Yes.” Maxwell managed a nod and then another whine. “Yes.”
“Good.”
With a self-satisfied growl, Garrett pumped his finger and made Maxwell throw his head back. Then he started working Maxwell with a single-minded intensity. Never too much, never too rough, never impatient. Disciplined and earnest and so, so good. Maxwell writhed and squirmed with abandon, knowing that Garrett had him so thoroughly trapped that nothing he did would throw Garrett’s hands off him. Nothing he did would stop Garrett’s relentless assault of exquisite, perfect pleasure.
Nothing except Maxwell’s own words.
Garrett would stop if Maxwell asked him to. No matter what they were doing, no matter how far gone either of them were, Maxwell had only to whisper the word, and Garrett would stop. Maxwell knew he would.
That thought, as much as the pleasure, had Maxwell’s cock kicking and his balls pulling up tight.
“I—” Maxwell opened his mouth but then pressed it to the skin under Garrett’s jaw before he could get any words out.
God, the man tasted good. He tasted good, and he smelled good, and he looked good. The man was just good. Maxwell didn’t have any business weighing down a man this good with his baggage, dragging this man into his bed with half-truths and secrets when this man deserved so much more.
“What do you want, baby?” Garrett dipped his head to nibble and worry at his ear.
God, maybe Maxwell didn’t deserve this, and Garrett definitely didn’t deserve this, but they were here now, and there was no way in hell Maxwell could stop. “I want to come.”
“Oh, you’ll come, baby.” Garrett started thumbing the head of Maxwell’s cock on each upstroke, smearing his precum all over and brushing his balls as he pumped his finger in and out of Maxwell’s ass. “I can feel how close you are.”
Maxwell could feel it too, every muscle tightening, his balls taut and pulsing. He started panting and pulled Garrett’s head down close to his. Dammit, he hadn’t done this in a long time. He’d forgotten how out of control it felt, how vulnerable. He wanted to—he so desperately wanted to—but a strong tether of fear held him back and kept him dancing on the knife’s edge.
Why had he done this? Why had he gotten himself here? He didn’t like being here. He was so stupid. H—
“You’re okay, Maxwell.” Garrett’s low voice rolled through his anxiety. “I’ve got you. It’s just me. It’s just me.”
“Garrett,” Maxwell sobbed.
“That’s right.” Garrett pressed his forehead to Maxwell’s temple. “It’s just me.”
Garrett.
With a cry that echoed in the small cockpit, Maxwell arched up and came.
Years of pent-up pain and desire and agony and longing exploded out of him, and he sobbed and whimpered as his cock pulsed and shot his spend up across his own chest. And then again and again over his stomach and his hips as Garrett finger-fucked him through his orgasm.
“Oh god.” Garrett’s breath stuttered in Maxwell’s ear in time with his hips. “Oh god-god-god-god.”
Garrett slammed his hips up into Maxwell’s ass and ground against him with a low, drawn-out groan, and Maxwell writhed against him as he felt the unmistakable heat and wetness and motions of a man coming. Of Garrett, caught in the throes of pleasure as he held Maxwell’s body against him.
Perfect, sweet, attentive, protective, gentle Garrett.
God, this was why Maxwell was supposed to stay away.
But instead, he fell limp and boneless against him. He laid his head back on Garrett’s shoulder and carded his fingers idly through Garrett’s short hair as the spend dried on his chest and his hole slackened around Garrett’s finger. And even though he chastised himself for the thought, he let himself wonder for a moment what it would be like to feel Garrett’s cock softening inside him instead.
For his part, Garrett let out a contented sigh and eased his finger free of Maxwell’s hole while Maxwell made a pleasured sound as the last remnants of it were wrung from his body. Garrett wiped his hands on his pants and then brought them to rest on Maxwell’s hips and petted his thumbs along Maxwell’s hipbones. Maxwell hummed at the soothing touches and nuzzled into Garrett’s neck again.
Garrett nosed Maxwell’s hair and kissed his temple. “Did you like that?”
A laugh bubbled up in Maxwell’s chest, both disbelieving and delighted. “God, you have no idea, Garrett.”
“Well, you can have it.” Garrett chuckled in response, then reached around the armrest to get at the bag under his chair and pull it out. “Whenever you want. You can always come to me, Maxwell. And I will always be safe for you, alright?”
Maxwell’s heart rose into his throat, and he couldn’t even speak as Garrett pulled a spare shirt from his bag and wiped Maxwell’s chest clean. Garrett understood so much more than Maxwell could bring himself to articulate. How did he always know what Maxwell needed? And why did he always give it to him? Maxwell should shake his head and tell Garrett this was never happening again. For both their sakes. But instead, he swallowed and took a shaky breath when Garrett balled his shirt up and tucked it back into his bag. “Alright.”
