Page 41 of Still Missing You

“I picked up something else when I went to get dinner.” Dylan crosses the room to his jacket, which hangs on the back of the desk chair. He reaches into the pocket, pulls out condoms and lube, and tosses them onto the bed next to me.

“I figured it couldn’t hurt to be prepared,” he adds, not quite meeting my eyes.

“Excellent purchase,” I tell him, sitting up to reach for them. But Dylan presses his hand to my chest and pushes me back against the pillow.

“Nope,” he says, with a teasing grin. “You’re going to sit still and rest your knee. I’ll do the work.”

He drops his towel, climbs onto the bed, and straddles my hips. His bare skin is hot even through my underwear.

I groan, gripping his hips. His smile widens, and he leans down, catching my mouth in a slow, hot kiss. My dick is hard and straining against my underwear, aching for attention. His kiss and the anticipation of what’s to come make me hungry and desperate for more.

But he backs off, looking down at where he’s seated above me.

“Is this okay?” he asks, teasing grin falling away.

I chuckle softly, running my hands up his bare legs to grip his ass. At the same time, I lift my hips to grind my hard cock against him.

“More than okay,” I tell him. “I want inside you.”

He leans down and catches my mouth in another hungry, frantic kiss. With one hand, I grasp the back of his head, holding him in place, while I let the finger of my other hand slip between his round ass cheeks, and I trace the tight circle of his hole.

“Fuck,” he groans. His hips rock forward, his swollen cock grinding against mine. The friction drives me half out of my mind. I want to drag my underwear off so I can feel him against me, hot skin against mine, but I can’t bring myself to stop kissing him, touching him.

Finally, I stop long enough to grab the lube from next to me on the bed. Dylan stops kissing me, watching me while I slick my fingers.

“Okay?” My voice sounds deep and rough even to me.

He swallows and nods, then he’s kissing me again. Hot nibbling kisses along my jawline, teeth tugging my earlobe. I grip one of his ass cheeks, then circle his hole with my lubed finger.

I tease and rub before pressing my finger inside him. He whimpers and shudders, tucking his head under my chin, while he sucks and bites along my collarbone.

My body feels like an exposed nerve ending, a live wire shooting sparks and ready to catch fire. I slowly work him open, hyper-aware of everything he does, his every breath, moan, shiver as if they’re moving through me and our bodies are entwined.

I add a second finger, pumping in and out of him, scissoring him open.

“Holy shit,” he whispers against my neck.

“Too much?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “I want you inside me.” He pushes back against my fingers. “I want to feel you fucking me.”

Then he’s pulling off my fingers and leaning back. He grips the waistband of my underwear and pulls them down over my hips.

My cock bounces free, precum dripping from the slit. I don’t think I’ve ever been this hard before, or desperate to be inside anyone like I am for Dylan. Like I’ve always been for Dylan.

He grabs a condom from where he tossed them onto the bed, rips open the packet, then grips my cock.

The feel of his hot hand wrapped around me nearly sends me over the edge. I’m so desperate for him, I don’t know how the fuck I’m going to last, but I’m willing to give it my best shot.

He starts to roll the condom down my erection, his gaze transfixed on the latex sheathing my dick.

“You know, I’m not an invalid. I could put on a condom.”

“I know you can.” He looks up at me and grins, and something pulls tight in my chest. “But I like doing it for you.”

He gives me a quick kiss, then positions my cock against his opening and slowly sinks down onto me.

The feeling of him, hot and clenched around me, makes my eyes roll back in my head. I grip his hips and fight the urge to thrust up and slam into him. Instead, I let him set the pace. The last thing I want is to hurt him, after all.