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He nods and turns his head back as much as he can in order to look at me. “More than you know.”
My cock takes notice of that statement. Already straining against my pants, it punches hard, aching to be included. I bite down on his neck.
“Lose the shirt,” I command.
He does as he is told, furiously unbuttoning the shirt and dumping it into a puddle on the floor. He turns to face me.
I cock a brow at him. “Where in there did I say you could turn around?”
He ignores me and reaches for my shirt, and tugs me in for a kiss. I unbutton my shirt and when he reaches to help, I nudge him away and point to the back of the couch. A memory flashes. This is where I had taken him that night, too.
“Turn back around, Davis.”
This time he obeys, and I finish undressing. I step behind him and press my now naked body against all that smooth golden skin. While doing so, I press him down until he’s bending over the back of the couch. The city lights and the darkness of the mountains beyond are our audience. It’s a beautiful view. Almost as beautiful as the one before me now. I fall to my knees and nibble and lick along those ass cheeks before I spread them and lick the length of his channel, my tongue stopping to rim his hole.
“Fuck,” Davey curses, and bucks back into me.
I chuckle and do it again. He bucks again.
“You like that?” I don’t wait for a response. I do it again and then duck down under to lick the inside of his thighs. Every damn inch of this man, I crave every damn inch of him.
Davey strokes himself and moans .
“Don’t you fucking dare.” I stand and take hold of his cock.
“Then get inside me….fuck… Carter… I need you inside me.”
That’s what I wanted to hear. Because that is exactly what I need too.
I hear the rip of the condom wrapper and hold still; my body tingling in anticipation.
Carter hadn’t had a condom that night seven years ago. He had neither been expecting—or looking—to hook up. But tonight, he’s prepared. I chuckle. That night I had been hesitant, not about the sex. No, I wanted the sex. I wanted sex with him. I very much wanted what he was going to give me that night. I couldn’t help it. But I’m not a bottom. Well, I had stopped being a bottom. Luke and I swapped. But I was the bottom more often than he was. I like it that way. I enjoy ceding that power to someone else. Someone I trust.
After Luke, I stopped trusting. I stopped trusting myself. I never let anyone else inside of me again. Not just sexually. Even the people I care most about and who care about me. Devyn, Brady, my father. I hold them all at arm’s length. I kept so much of what happened deeply buried. I reduced my sex life to flings and hookups with twinks willing to comply to my whims, which meant quickies and blow jobs. No lengthy foreplay. No cuddling and absolutely no kissing.
Carter had not been gentle that night. So much anger, and pain, and years of frustration poured into me with each thrust. I’ve never forgotten it. And what’s more, it was the best fuck of my life. And for so many years, I hated myself for thinking that. Hated that I got myself off to Carter Hughes way more times than I can count.
I wonder if he was going to be more gentle tonight. I hope not.
One quick thrust deep into me is my answer. His balls smack against mine. The hot skin of his body molds over me, and those teeth bite into the top of my shoulder.
I grunt and Carter smiles against my skin. He pulls away from me and thrusts again. I moan again. He thrusts. I moan louder. He thrusts. His breathing grows harder and harder with each thrust.
“You know how to make me come, Davis,” he pants. “You know what to do.”
And I do. And I love that I do. I know the switch to flip.
He reaches around and wraps a hand around mine and strokes my cock with me. I groan again as the orgasm sinks into my balls, ready to explode.
“Carter,” I say his name. “Carter.”
Hearing my name ooze breathlessly from Davey’s mouth sends the orgasm ripping through me. It all happens way too quickly, but that’s what seven years of desire will do. Seven years of yearning. Seven years of dreaming of this man.
Seven years. In this moment it feels like yesterday. But tonight, I don’t have to pull out and bolt out the door before he sees how much I enjoyed him. Tonight, he isn’t squirming to get out from under me as if my touch is repulsive to him.
Tonight, we are both relishing this bliss.
I follow him to the shower, drinking in the view, and realize something I hadn’t bother to notice before. “You don’t have any ink.”
