Page 117 of The Home Game

“This good?” Matty whispered, stroking harder, teasing the foreskin a little and rubbing his thumb across the shiny head.

Antoni sighed. “Yeah, God, Matty. Like that.” He thrust up into Matty’s grip. “Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”

Matty watched, fascinated by the way the head of Antoni’s cock disappeared through the tunnel of his fist, slickness seeping out from the tip and helping the smooth glide.

“You want some lube?”

“No. Just keep going. Please.” Antoni gripped Matty’s forearm, abs tightening, his hips rising to meet every one of Matty’s strokes. “Your hands are so big and strong and fuck, that feels amazing. I’m so close already.”

Pleased, Matty kept going, working him a little harder, trying to learn all of the little things that made Antoni moan or bite his lip. He wanted to remember them for the next time.

When Antoni was shaking and gripping the cushions of the sofa, Matty tightened his grip and rubbed his thumb across the flared head of Antoni’s cock. Antoni cried out, hand flying up to grasp Matty’s arm.

“Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God,” he babbled, fingers digging in. “Matty …”

“I’ve got you,” Matty whispered. “You can let go whenever you’re ready.”

With a few more thrusts and a choked-out cry, Antoni tensed, his entire body going tight as he shot up onto his chest and abs, trembling.

Matty worked him through it, making each stroke slower and gentler, easing Antoni down from his orgasm.

When it was over, Antoni sighed and every muscle went soft as he fell back against the cushion with a contented noise. Matty let go, liking the way Antoni’s cum looked as it pooled into the ridges of his abdomen.

He looked up the length of Antoni’s body. His chest heaved, his lips were parted, and his eyes were closed. There was color in his cheeks and his hair was a little damp along the edges.

“Oh my God,” Antoni said weakly, his eyelashes fluttering open, his lips curving up. “That was … Jesus that was the best hand job I’ve ever had.”

He looked wrecked but so happy, smiling at Matty.

“Yeah?” Matty said, feeling pleased with himself. Antoni had so much more experience than he did. With men for sure and probably with everyone. Matty had worried a little bit that he might not be able to make him feel good or that it would be awkward when he fumbled around.

But Antoni looked sleepy and content, all of the tension melted away.

Antoni crooked a finger. “Yeah, c’mere, big guy. I want you close.”

And Matty ducked his head, smiling as he stretched out, reaching for a discarded shirt. He used it to wipe Antoni’s belly clean, then dried his own hand before he tossed it aside.

Sorry, Charlie, he thought guilty as the messy shirt landed on the new carpet that had gone in earlier this summer. But Charlie would understand that cuddling a beautiful man was more important than some flooring.

They shifted until Antoni lay on his side between Matty and the back of the couch, tucked into the crook of his arm.

“I’m glad it was good,” Matty whispered as he pulled a throw over their bodies. “I wanted it to be good for you.”

“Oh, Matty,” Antoni whispered, voice all soft and sweet as he looked him in the eye. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

Matty shrugged because right now he didn’t feel like getting into the ways he got insecure sometimes.

Antoni snuggled closer, pressing his mouth to Matty’s. “It was perfect,” he said as he drew back and there was nothing in his warm, contented gaze that made Matty think it was anything but the truth. “You were perfect.”

Happiness filled Matty and he draped an arm over Antoni’s side, tangling their legs together. As Matty pulled Antoni close and sighed, content, he thought this was what sex should always feel like.

This was what he’d been waiting for his whole life.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

They dozed for a little while before Matty’s stomach rumbled, pulling Antoni out of the drifting, contented state he’d been in.

Eyes still closed, Antoni smiled against Matty’s shoulder that he’d been using as a pillow. “Worked up an appetite, huh?”

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