Page 94 of Rookie Recovery

“Are you ready?” I moaned into his ear as I pushed my fingers in again. Deeper, opening him up. Please be ready for me. “I’m going to fuck you now.”

“I’m ready.” His words were breaths. “So. Fucking. Ready.”

I didn’t take my fingers out of him while I ripped open the button of my jeans left-handed. Kept pumping as I yanked the fly down, clawed my underwear down my hips to free my cock.

I pulled out of him to reach for the lube. His eyes drifted down as I curled my slickened fingers over my shaft, hissing at the contact against the hard, tight skin. His gaze seared with heat.

He stared.

I burned.

“So hot,” he murmured, watching my hand as I stroked. “Must have killed you when I was doing that in the bathroom of your office.”

“Yeah.” I watched him watch me. Burning under his gaze, under my own touch. With the memory of him stroking himself on his knees in front of me. “Now stop talking because I would like to fuck you.”

I crushed my mouth to his, tugged him to the edge of the counter until my cock met his ass. He leant back onto his hands again, opening himself up to me until my crown pressed against the rim of his hole. My fingers on his hips pulled him closer. I was panting, maybe shaking. Sweating, desperate, needy. I needed him.

So fucking badly.

He wrapped a leg around my hip and tugged me close. Pulling me in. I moaned as I pushed inside him. Slowly, so slowly. He was so fucking tight, like I knew he would be. The warmth and heat an embrace, one I’d never get enough of.

“You feel so fucking good,” I whispered, staring into those green eyes. “So. Fucking. Good.”

“More,” he pleaded, locking his legs around me.

I obeyed, pushing in, pulling him closer, inch by slow inch. Took every ounce of willpower not to slam into him, hard and fast. Not to wreck him the way I wanted. But more than that, I wanted this to last. I wanted to keep breathing in the scent of him, clutching his hips as I dragged him onto me. Feeling the tight squeeze of him around my cock. Watching those green eyes darken with desire, his mouth round into a perfect O of pleasure.

Everything. All of him.

“Oh fuck,” he said as I nudged in deeper, all the way. Every inch of me inside him. “Oh, my God. Yes.”

I rocked into him, slow and soft at first, finding our rhythm, pulling tiny moans from his throat. But I’d used up my resistance. Between those eyes, staring down between us to watch as my cock slid into his ass, and those filthy groans, and how fucking tight he still was around me, I couldn’t hold back anymore.

My hips bucked against him, slamming me in deep. Hurtling me towards release with compounding speed. Sweat beaded my hair, slipped down my forehead, and breath wracked my lungs. He wrapped his legs tighter, pulling me in closer, further, bringing us together.

“I’m so fucking close,” I panted. My fingers drifted down the hard planes of his abs to his cock. “Will you come for me, Archie?”

I wound my hand around him. Slid it up along his shaft.

“Oh, fuck.” His hips jerked up towards my fingers. His head tilted back. My cock drove into him. “Oh, fuck, Jamie.”

His release spilled over my hand and across his chest.

And I was gone.

I plunged over the edge into fucking bliss. Into outer space and stars. Into dizzy head-rush and moans and spasmic hip-thrusts of ecstasy as I milked every last bit of pleasure out. I pulled him towards me to set my forehead against his, both of us sweating, panting, trying to come back down to earth.

Not that I wanted to. Ever. I didn’t have words to express what had just happened, how I felt. My body was spent, in every muscle and fiber of my being. And when Bowie softened against me, I thought maybe he felt the same.

Sated. Fucked-out. Satisfied.

In a way I’d never been before.

I pressed my lips to his forehead. “That was …”

He started babbling before I found something affectionate to say. “I know you’re old and have to probably wait like forty-eight hours before having sex again, but I will wait if you’ll do that again, because holy fuck that was even better than I imagined. And I imagined it like … a lot. A lot. More than any person should? A concerning amount—”

“Oh, my God.” I groaned, laughed. Tipped my cheek against his forehead and groaned again. “How is it possible to be so fucking sexy and so not sexy at the same time?”

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