Page 25 of Bruised

He spins to face me, and his reaction is the same as every time I call him by that nickname—he gets this annoyed but intrigued expression. He glares, his pupils blown wide and his cheeks flushing crimson. He likes it; I know he does. He just doesn’t want to admit it, and that’s part of why he’s so fun to mess with.

I’m still wearing clothes, so I take them off real quick. Lane follows my lead by pulling his shirt off, but when it comes to his boxers, he hesitates.

I reach a hand out and brush his thigh. “How about these?”

Lane stares down at my hand. He tugs at the waistband of his boxers, sliding his thumbs back and forth over the fabric.

I chuckle at his hesitation. “Come on. You’re cute with your little clothes-on humping, but you’re kinda chafing my dick off.”

It’s true; I didn’t notice the first time, but last night, the friction started to get a little too rough to be pleasurable.

“Come on,” I coax. “It’ll feel better for you, too. All nice and slippery.”

I nod toward the trusty bottle of lube by my nightstand, and Lane’s cheeks flush with color. He shakes his head—at himself or me, I’m not sure at first—but then he sucks in a breath and shucks his boxers off. He steps out of them, lifting one foot after the other, and sends them sliding across the floor. And just like that, he’s naked before me.

I try to look at him with polite approval, though I can’t deny I want to stare. His cock is just as pretty as I’ve imagined: smaller than mine, flushed pink at the tip, full and erect, and pointing straight ahead. His soft balls are shaved and smooth as he seats himself on top of me, and we both moan when we meet skin-to-skin.

I’m not fully hard yet, my body still waking up from my nap. My cock slumps by my thigh, and Lane frowns down at it, humping my groin but not quite getting the pressure he’s after.

“Go on,” I say. “You can touch it. Position it the way you want.”

His eyes widen, and there’s hesitation, sure, but my lips part in wonder as his hand closes around the base of my shaft. He gasps and lets go of it as if it burned him, blushing madly.

Fuck, he’s cute. I don’t think he’s a virgin, but he sure acts like one sometimes.

After a deep breath, he tries again. His grip is loose but determined as he lifts my dick to point it toward my stomach so he can seat himself just right. As soon as our cocks align, he thrusts forward, and a rushed breath slips from his mouth—a little “oh” that makes my dick twitch.

“Much better,” I say. “Now doesn’t that feel nice?”

It sure does for me. I reach for the bottle of lube and squirt some over our cocks. A long strip lands on the top of Lane’s shaft, and he gasps as I close my hand around us to spread the lube, leaving nothing dry.

I glance up to gauge his reaction, aware that he might get spooked and think I’m going too far. His eyes are glazed over, though, and his brows are pinched in pleasure, as if he’s close to coming already.

I close my fist tighter around our cocks, jerking us off with more intent. It’s a little difficult at this angle, but it gets the desired effect.

“Oh,” Lane moans, and he bucks into my hand. “Oh, shit.”

“Yeah. Feels good, right?” I slide my hand back and forth, meeting his thrusts. “Would feel even better with you on your back.”

Lane shakes his head, but he keeps bucking into my hand, and the tip of his cock leaks a pulse of precum, giving me even more lubrication to work with.

“No? You want to stay on top?”

He nods, eyes closed.

I chuckle. “Your choice, puppy.”

This is nice, too—having him in my lap, right where I want him. More than nice. His cock rubbing against mine and his trembling thighs locked around my hips are everything I’ve dreamed of for the past couple of days. I’m close already, but I want to make sure he comes with me. One hand jerking us off leaves me with one hand free to touch him elsewhere. Hmm… How about…

I let my free hand skirt past his hip and grip his ass. He stiffens, but he doesn’t tell me to stop. Squeezing his right ass cheek, I lift it to the side and bare his hole.

That does the trick. Lane bucks desperately one more time, and then he shoots all over my stomach, shuddering and moaning. I watch him through all of it, transfixed, as I explode in my hand, my release joining his in a mess of lube and sweat and cum.

I’m nothing if not greedy, and I recover faster than Lane, so while he’s still a boneless, panting mess in my lap, I dip my finger in the cum pooling on my stomach and bring that finger to his backside. There, I rub at his clenched hole—not pushing inside, just circling it gently. Can’t wait until he lets me do a lot more than that. A few days ago, he didn’t even want to look in my direction, let alone touch me, so we’re making quick progress, all things considered.

He doesn’t move, either too weak to shove me away or not minding my touch. He gazes at me through half-lidded eyes, a little sullen, a little embarrassed, but looking a lot satisfied.

“Got what you needed, puppy?” I ask as I keep circling his hole with my finger. He’s tight and warm here, and my finger glides over the soft wrinkles of his rim.