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Roan opened the packet of lube and rubbed it all over my cock, kissing me as he worked. I held my hand out to him, taking the remainder of the slippery substance and coating my fingers again.
He turned away from me and settled on his hands and knees, presenting me with his perfect ass. I touched the curve of his backside, exhaling a steadying breath as I positioned myself behind him. Slipping my fingers inside of him again, I worked them in and out, spreading the lubrication around until he felt more relaxed.
“Ready?” I asked, trying to ignore the way my voice wavered.
“I think so...”
The voices in my head, cursing me for wanting this — for wantinghim— screamed at me as I nudged my cock up against his entrance. A shiver ripple through him, or maybe it was my hand trembling. I couldn’t tell. To stop it, I gripped his hip and pushed into him as gently as I could.
His fingers dug into the sheets and he sucked in a breath through his teeth. As soon as I breached the tight ring of muscles, he groaned and I swore. My cock wasn’t even all the way in, but it already felt amazing. Being inside of him was everything I’d ever dreamed about, and everything that was going send me straight to Hell.
“Fuck…” Roan rocked back slightly, helping more of my cock slip inside. Slowly, steadily, it went further, until my hips were flush with his ass. A shudder went through him before his body relaxed again.
“Oh my God. You’re so fucking tight.” The feeling was so euphoric, I could barely breathe. I held on to either side of his hips and pulled back slightly before thrusting in again. He moaned, meeting each of my tentative thrusts with a flick of his hips.
I tried to take it slow, to draw out the pleasure for us both. But as soon as we fell into a steady rhythm, I couldn’t help but thrust a little harder, a little quicker. Roan matched the pace, groaning and whimpering.
Slipping an arm beneath his, I wrapped it around his chest and pulled him back against me. Now that we were both up on our knees, he turned and kissed me over his shoulder.
“I love the way you fuck me,” Roan panted, his head tipped back against me while he stroked himself, hard and fast, in time to my thrusting from behind.
“You feel so fucking good.” My fingers curled around his throat, keeping his head pulled to the side so I could bite and suck the tender skin at the juncture of his neck and his shoulder.
“God, don’t stop, Sasha. Please don’t fucking stop.”
“I’m so close. I don’t—”
“Harder. I’m right there.”
I fucked him as hard as I could, for as long as I could, until stars burst behind my eyelids and an orgasm rocked through me. He came at nearly the same time, clenching around me so hard it stole my breath.
Collapsing against his back, I held him tightly, panting into his damp neck. He reached behind him and stroked my hair, nuzzling the side of my head.
“That was fucking amazing,” he breathed.
“Yeah,” I murmured, trying to remember how to speak — in any language.
For the first time in my life, the reproaching voice in my head was silent. But the stain of my repugnance would always be there, marring me as much as the cigarette burns on my forearm, or the tattoos over the rest of my skin. I could never escape it, I knew that now, especially now that I’d disgraced myself by giving in. The only hope was to distance myself from it, from Roan, before the degeneracy ruined me completely.
35
Roan
After cleaning up,we fell back into bed again. I was sore, but all in all, the first time bottoming — especially for a guy Sasha’s size — wasn’t as bad as I’d expected. Even now, I don’t know why I went as far as I did. Rather, why I went as far as I did withhim. I’d been the top in my previous relationships, but for Sasha, I was consumed with the need to have him —allof him. Maybe one day we’d switch, just to try it out, but for now I was happy letting him more or less lead.
“I think I have a problem,” I said, staring at the ceiling above his bed.
Sasha propped himself on his elbow, frowning. “What problem? Tell me. I’ll fix it.”
“Not that kind of a problem.” Moving closer to him, I slid my arm under his pillow and immediately jerked it back out. “What the fuck?”
Picking up the pillow, Sasha blinked at the handgun laying there. “What? What’s wrong?”
“I heard about this guy who shot his wife one night while he was dreaming. Aren’t you afraid you’re going to shoot yourself in your sleep? Or, I don’t know, someone else who might be here...” It might not have been the best way to ask if I was the only bed partner in his life, but it was worth a shot. I figured it was safe to assume I was the only guy, but who knew if he was into women too.
“No.” He grabbed the gun and set it on the nightstand, completely oblivious to the underlying question. Laying down again, he folded an arm behind his head, still frowning at me. “What is the problem?”
Shaking my head, I tried to resume by train of thought before it had been derailed by picturing my Russian Rambo rolling around with a blonde supermodel. “I know I shouldn’t be here. You’ve made that part crystal clear. But—”
