Page 105 of Hunter

Charlie leans down and kisses me slow and deep while he reaches behind himself. I feel the moment his slick fingers press inside his own body—the way his breath stutters against my lips, the soft, needy sound he makes. I keep my hands on his thighs, stroking soothing circles, letting him set the pace.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” I whisper. “Look at you. Taking care of yourself for me.”

He moans softly, working himself open with two fingers, then three. His hips rock in tiny movements, cock leaking against my stomach. I wrap my hand around him and stroke lazily, matching his rhythm, and he shudders.

“Ready?” he asks, voice wrecked.

“Only if you are.”

“Do you want protection?” he asks as if it’s an afterthought.

I shake my head, brushing my thumb over his hipbone. “I’m clean.”

“Me too.”

Charlie nods, breath shaky, then reaches for the lube again. He slicks me up with slow, deliberate strokes that makes my hips twitch. The cool slide of his hand combined with the heat in his eyes is almost too much. When he’s satisfied, he shifts forward, knees bracketing my hips, and lines me up.

Our eyes lock.

He sinks down.

The first press of his body against the head of my cock is pure, searing heat. Tight. So fucking tight. I grip his thighs hard, not guiding, just holding on as he breathes through it. Inch by inch, he takes me. His mouth falls open on a silent gasp when the head pops inside him, and the feeling of his body stretching around me is enough to make my vision blur.

“Fuck, Charlie…” My voice is wrecked. “You feel—God.”

He pauses, chest heaving, eyes fluttering half-closed. I can feel every tiny flutter and clench around me as he adjusts. His hand is braced on my chest, fingers spread, nails digging in just enough to ground us both.

“You’re so big,” he whispers, voice thin. “Fuck, Hunter… I feel so full, and you’re not even all the way in.”

I stroke my hands up and down his thighs, soothing. “Take your time, baby. We’ve got all night. Just breathe.”

Charlie nods, biting his lip, and sinks down another inch. The slide is slick and devastatingly hot. Every fraction deeper pulls a broken sound from his throat and a low groan from mine. When he’s finally seated all the way, ass flush against my hips, we both freeze.

The feeling is overwhelming. He’s burning hot inside, gripping me like a vice, every tiny shift and flutter of his body sending sparks up my spine. I’m buried to the hilt, surrounded by tight, silky heat, and the sight of him—flushed, trembling, impaled on me—is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

Charlie lets out a shaky exhale and rocks forward experimentally. The movement drags me along his walls and pulls a guttural moan from both of us.

“Oh my God,” he breathes, eyes rolling back for a second. “You’re so deep like this.”

He starts to move; slow, rolling grinds at first, finding the angle that makes his breath hitch. Every downward slide is torture and bliss. I keep my hands on his hips, thumbs stroking the crests of his hipbones, but I don’t thrust up. I let him set the pace completely. This is for him. He needs the control, and I’m more than happy to give it.

Charlie’s head falls back as he finds his rhythm. His hips roll in smooth, filthy circles, taking me deep every time. The wet sound of lube and skin fills the room, obscene and perfect. His cock bounces against my stomach with every movement, leaving shiny streaks of precum on my skin.

“Look at you,” I rasp, voice raw. “So fucking gorgeous riding me. Taking every inch like you were made for it.”

A broken moan spills from his lips. He leans forward, bracing both hands on my chest, and starts fucking himself harder—faster—chasing the angle that makes his thighs shake. Sweat beads on his collarbones. His curls are wild, sticking to his forehead. He looks ruined and perfect.

“Hunter—fuck—right there—” he gasps when he finds the spot.

I keep one hand on his hip and wrap the other around his cock, stroking him in time with his movements. “That’s it, baby. Use me. Take what you need.”

Charlie’s rhythm turns desperate. He’s riding me hard now, hips snapping down, ass clenching around me on every upstroke. The tight heat, the slick slide, the sight of him falling apart on top of me, it’s too much and not enough all at once.

“I’m close,” he whimpers, voice cracking. “Hunter, I’m so close⁠—”

“Come on,” I growl, thumb swiping over the head of his cock. “Let me feel you. Come for me, Charlie.”

He cries out, body locking up as he comes hard across my stomach and chest in thick stripes. His ass clenches rhythmically around me, pulsing, milking me so perfectly that I lose it right after him. I groan his name, hips jerking up once, twice, filling him deep while he rides out the aftershocks.