Page 127 of The Play

“I’m gonna suck your cock, just like this, and you’re gonna come on my face, and then we’re gonna go in the bedroom, like you wanted, and I’m gonna fuck you until you can’t even dream about being afraid anymore.”

Grant choked out a groan. “Yes. That. Please.”

Deacon took him deeper, like he too could barely wait for what he’d just described, and then Grant was tensing up as Deacon’s thumb pressed inside him, and it was all over.

He exploded, right as Deacon pulled off, and stripes of come fell across his face, bits of white settling into the dark scruff on his cheeks.

“That,” Grant panted, “should not be as hot as it is.”

“Yeah?” Deacon asked casually as he used Grant’s briefs to wipe off.

And God, if that wasn’t even fucking hotter.

The matter-of-fact way he just used Grant—used whatever of Grant’s he needed. It made him desperate and horny, all over again.

Yeah, he wouldn’t get hard again right away.

But even though he knew eventually Deacon was going to bury his cock in his ass and send him to heaven, again, it wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.

No, he’d have his chance to recover.

Deacon wouldn’t be rushed.

Though, Grant thought as they stumbled into the bedroom, Deacon landing on the edge of the bed, maybe he could push them a little.

He grabbed the lube and squirted some on his fingers as Deacon shed his sweatpants. And God bless post-practice habits, because it felt like Deacon never came here after his shower wearing underwear.

His cock bobbed out hard and dripping.

Grant’s mouth watered, and he could barely wait until Deacon’s feet were free of his sweatpants to lean forward and let his dick slip into his wide, waiting mouth.

“God, yeah, you are so goddamn hot like that,” Deacon groaned and his fingers tangled in Grant’s hair. Not pushing him, exactly, but guiding him. And it was so easy to give himself up to it—the stretch of his mouth around Deacon’s cock and the stretch of his fingers as they pushed inside of himself. He squirmed at the slightly uncomfortable burn and then sank into the pleasure of it, loving just how right it felt. At how right it was going to feel in a minute, when Deacon finally slid into him.

Deacon must’ve been just about as impatient as Grant was to experience it because it felt like no time at all had passed and Deacon was hauling him up, onto the bed, one of his big fingers joining Grant’s own, making him moan.

Grant flipped over, and Deacon was on him in a second, caging him in, kissing him with so much desire he felt dizzy with it.

Deacon’s cock pushed at his hole and then slid inside, and they both moaned. The muscles of Deacon’s arms flexed and shook a little as he tried to go slowly.

But Grant didn’t want caution; he wanted to be overwhelmed. He wanted to dive right into the fire and get burned.

“Please, Deac,” Grant begged. “Harder.”

It was beautiful watching as Deacon’s control broke.

He started fucking him in long, hard strokes, Grant’s cock already hard again, rubbing between their bodies, right up against Deacon’s abs.

Grant couldn’t quite get a hand on himself as Deacon fucked him into the mattress, but it turned out it didn’t matter. He didn’t need it. He could come, just like this, with the friction of Deacon’s skin, Deacon’s mouth on his, Deacon’s cock rubbing so perfectly inside him it lit him up until he was falling off the edge.

A second later, Deacon came with a deep groan, and they fell to the mattress still intertwined together, not letting go even for a second.

“Love you,” Deacon mumbled into Grant’s shoulder.

Grant’s fingers spasmed as they gripped Deacon’s biceps. “Love you, too,” he murmured.

Pulling back, Deacon looked at him for a long moment. Didn’t say anything. Just looked.

Grant recognized that look. It was the look that so many girls and boys at school had said turned them inside out. That they’d have done anything to have directed their way. But it was different, too. Softer. More intimate. Like Grant was seeing deeper, all the way down to Deacon’s soul.

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