Page 132 of In at the Deep End

Not even once.

The realisation hit Owen hard.

He isn’t thinking about what anyone else might think. He knows what anyone hearing him might assume, and he doesn’t care.

Owen’s heart pounded. Matt letting go wasn’t recklessness.

He feels safe enough to want, to not apologise for wanting.

And in that moment, fuck, Owen wanted him.

He stood, his steel-like cock sliding through Matt’s crack, sliding his hands over those firm globes to Matt’s waist, then higher along his back. Matt arched, chasing Owen’s touch, short, sharp breaths punctuating every glide of Owen’s hands over his skin.

“Take your shirt off.”

Matt’s breathing caught, and a heartbeat later Owen was rewarded with the sight of sun-kissed broad shoulders, muscles rippling as he moved. He stroked the bronze skin, pebbled with goosebumps, leaning over to place a trail of kisses down Matt’s spine, his shaft still rubbing over Matt’s loosened hole.

Matt twisted once, his eyes wide. “Please, Owen.”

The soft catch in his voice, that whimper of need…

Owen grabbed one of the packets, tore it open, and squeezed the liquid onto his cock, smearing it over its length. He brought the head to Matt’s entrance and slowly, slowly inched inside him.

Matt’s moans of pleasure bounced off the walls, Owen’s mingling with them.

“Oh, fuck.” Matt shivered. “Feels good.” He grabbed the far edge of the desk and held on, the skin white over his knuckles.

Owen took his time, waiting on Matt for a sign to continue. Through the open window, noises drifted upwards from the garden room, and the sounds only added to Owen’s arousal.

Matt rocked back, meeting his thrusts, and Owen let go.

“That’s it, fuck yourself on it. Use it,” he rasped.

Bodies slammed into each other, their collision louder than anything that filtered through the open window, the sharp slap of flesh meeting flesh. They rocked together, Owen pulling on Matt’s hips, yanking him back onto his cock, low cries tumbling from Matt’s lips every single fucking time.

“Harder,” Matt ground out. “Come on, Owen, fuck me.”

Owen drove his cock deep, and a loud groan burst from Matt’s lips as he bowed his head, shudders jolting through him. “God, yes. More.”

Owen dug his fingers into Matt’s hips, hard enough that he knew there’d be signs afterwards, and the thought of leaving those marks on Matt surged through him in a white-hot blaze.

“Want to see you.” Matt’s voice shook.

Owen was out of him in the time it took to draw breath.

Matt flipped himself onto his back, drawing his knees to his chest. Owen grabbed hold of his hips and tugged him closer to the edge of the desk, adding a trickle of lube onto the head of his dick before sliding all the way home in one long, fluid motion.

Matt bit his lip. “Oh my fucking God.”

Owen leaned over him, ploughing into him, and Matt rested one ankle on Owen’s shoulder.

“How deep can you go?” Matt’s eyes were dark and so huge, his lips parted, his chest heaving, belly quivering.

Owen grabbed Matt’s ankles, lifted his legs until his calves were against Owen’s shoulders, and buried himself in Matt’s body.

“As deep as you need.”

Matt rolled his eyes back. “Oh. Oh fuck.” He tugged on his dick, his hand blurring as he picked up speed, his body tightening around Owen’s shaft.