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Halfway in and Fal’ran moaned, his insides rippling around Patrick’s length. Patrick slammed his eyes shut against the sensation. He clenched his jaw, his teeth grinding, and forced breaths in and out through his nose. Breathe, he just had to—fuck, he’d never felt anything so good in his whole life—breathe.
Keep breathing.
Bringing every ounce of his self-control to bear, Patrick forced himself forward bit by bit until his hip bones brushed Fal’ran’s skin. They each let out shuddering breaths when Patrick bottomed out, and Patrick soothed his palm up and down Fal’ran’s spine again. The younger man propped himself up on his forearms and hung his head down. His broad back heaved and shook.
Patrick massaged Fal’ran’s hip. “You alright?”
An explosive breath of laughter burst out from between Fal’ran’s lips. “Fucking amazing.” Fal’ran clenched around him, and the pleasure sent stars through Patrick’s vision. “God, you feel good, Patrick.”
Triumph roared up Patrick’s spine. “Yeah?” He pulled out an inch and rolled his hips back in.
Fal’ran dropped his head with a groan. “Yeah, shit, that’s good.”
Patrick braced himself with one hand between Fal’ran’s shoulder blades and one on his hip. “This what you need?”
He pulled out another couple of inches and thrust back in. Oh, fucking hell, that felt amazing. Patrick’s lower belly spasmed at the impossibly tight heat of Fal’ran’s body squeezing around him. His instincts took over, pumping his hips, chasing the incredible pleasure.
Fal’ran didn’t reply, any words lost to the guttural cries Patrick punched out of him. His muscles clenched and shivered, but with Patrick’s hands holding him down, he didn’t have the range of motion to do anything but take it.
Patrick bared his teeth in a snarl as he held back the waves of pleasure crashing over him. He had a job to do, and he’d do it if he killed him. Fal’ran chose Patrick’s bed to be in. He put his pleasure in Patrick’s hands. Hell, he put his heart, his future, his entire self in Patrick’s hands. Patrick wouldn’t let him down.
“Come here.” Patrick wrapped one arm around Fal’ran’s waist, the other across his chest, sat back, and hauled Fal’ran onto his lap.
“Oh god, there, fuck, right there.” Fal’ran arched, pressing his back into Patrick’s chest.
Patrick tightened his grip around Fal’ran’s waist, pinning him against his body and crawled his other hand up Fal’ran’s heaving chest to wrap his fingers around his throat. The new angle put a strain on Patrick’s back and core but let him slam with brutal efficiency into that spot that made Fal’ran writhe and thrash in his arms. “This how you like it?”
“Yeah, yeah, don’t stop.” Fal’ran grabbed Patrick’s forearm with both hands and dropped his head back onto Patrick’s shoulder. Patrick stared down the front of his muscular body to his cock, dripping and swollen.
He reached down with the hand he had around Fal’ran’s waist and gave his sticky length a rough stroke. “I’m not gonna stop until you come all over these sheets.”
Fal’ran keened and arched his back as Patrick found a rhythm, pumping his hips up into Fal’ran above him and tugging on his weeping cock. The physical coordination challenged Patrick enough to pull his awareness from the need coursing through his own body. But he was a fighter and had been for all his life. He made his living with his body, and while he may never have fucked a man before, he’d never faced a physical challenge he hadn’t overcome.
That hard-won confidence drove him forward, pounding into Fal’ran’s clenching heat and pinning his thrashing body against his as he pleasured him. He could do this. He could drive Fal’ran wild. He could make him see stars. He could drag him over the edge, his throat hoarse from yelling, until he lay on this bed shivering with aftershocks as Patrick’s cum leaked from his hole.
Just like Fal’ran wanted.
Patrick twisted his palm over Fal’ran’s head, and Fal’ran let out a high-pitched cry.
“Patrick! I—I—” Fal’ran’s voice spiked with a new urgency and his hole fluttered and spasmed around Patrick’s cock. Patrick’s own excitement surged in his chest as Fal’ran’s hips and thighs shook.
“That’s right, Fal’ran, come on!” Patrick forced himself to pound faster against Fal’ran’s prostate even as his own hips tightened up.
Fal’ran turned his head into Patrick’s neck, inhaled as though Patrick’s very smell was oxygen, and came with a cry. His muscles clamped down on Patrick as cum shot from the tip of his cock in long, glorious steaks, painting the sheets and pillows and even streaking across the headboard.
“Fal’ran, Fal’ran, holy fuck, Fal’ran.” Patrick poured all his effort into chasing down his own orgasm, desperately snapping his hips as he hurtled towards his ledge. His scent. That’s what had finished Fal’ran.
Fal’ran had come from the smell of Patrick’s skin.
That crystalized thought slammed Patrick’s orgasm into him. With one last brutal thrust, Patrick came, grinding out his pleasure into the shivering man against him. Wave after wave flowed through him, making him spurt into Fal’ran’s still lazily clenching heat, filling the younger man with his spend.
“Goddamn, Fal’ran.” Patrick nuzzled into the base of Fal’ran’s neck when the ability to form words returned to him.
“That was worth every second I waited for it,” Fal’ran managed breathlessly. He reached back and pushed his hands through Patrick’s sweaty hair and Patrick kissed his palm.
“That was worth waiting my whole damn life for.” With a few groans of discomfort as cramped muscles shifted, Patrick moved his bent legs out from under himself and lay flat back on the bed, pulling Fal’ran after him.
“Was it really?” Fal’ran rolled off him enough to settle at his side, still wrapped up in Patrick’s arms. His voice had that thread of insecurity that reared its head every once in a while, to remind Patrick that for all his arrogance, Fal’ran was still a vulnerable kid. No, not a vulnerable kid. A man who had made himself vulnerable to Patrick.
