Page 45 of For Real

“I look forward to…regretting it.”

“God, Laurie, you fucking kill me.” He arched into me, moaning, his suddenly very hard cock sliding against the groove of my hip.

I swallowed a gasp. “Oh, to be nineteen again.”

“It’s not funny. You think I like being perma-horny? How am I supposed to sleep now?”

“You don’t have to sleep. Use me.” Invitation. Command. Plea. “Let me help you.”

He stopped squirming for a moment. “You mean I get to come twice, and you not at all?”

“Revel in your power, princeling.”

“And you don’t mind?”

“I mind not coming. I mind a lot.”

“Ha-ha, not that. You’re stuck with that. Like you don’t…mind me…all the time?”

God. He really had no idea. “It would be my delight and my privilege to get you off whenever you want in whatever manner you want.” I’d been going for dryly humorous. It didn’t last. “It’ll drive me insane…but God…yes, please. Take your pleasure from me.”

There was a power too at the heart of powerlessness, and he had never once withheld it or denied me. If anything, he had lavished me, drowned me, seduced me utterly with it—my power to affect him, arouse him, satisfy him.

“Yes.” The word was little more than a rough sigh.

I wrapped a hand around him, his cock jerking at my touch. “Do you want my palm? My mouth? My body?”

“Oh fuck. Wow.” He scrambled off me, and this time, there was more than enough heat between us to leave me full of warmth and wanting. “Grab the headboard.”

I reached up and closed my hands around one of the crossbars. The carvings were intricate but smooth. It was partly why I’d chosen the bed and something I’d almost forgotten until now.

“I love the way you look when you’re all stretched out.”

I shivered, taut and—in some very small way—vulnerable. Toby knelt over me, his thighs enclosing me, and dragged his cock over my lips. It was a sensation I’d always found compelling in its contradictions, soft skin and blunt pressure, at once tender and intrusive. I was eager to taste him, to please him, but I let him force me to it.

“Open. Oh…shit…wait… Do I need a condom?”

“Fuck the condom.” Knowing better, apparently, did not preclude actually giving a damn. I wanted him, and I wanted him bare.

“I haven’t… I’m like totally—”

“Please, Toby, just let me suck your fucking cock.”

And then he was inside, with a groan. He didn’t give me much chance to adjust, but I let him take everything: my mouth, my breath, control. He didn’t brutalise me, but his eagerness was its own roughness and claimed me just as surely. He came in less than a minute in a crescendo of breath, babbling wildly, his cock nudging the back of my throat and his body shuddering above me, all skin and shadows, making me wish I’d thought to turn a light on so I could see him properly.

He collapsed next to me, leaving me gasping and full of the taste of him. Then he rolled into his usual ball and tucked himself in tightly, nestling against my once again painfully desperate cock.

“That was awesome. Like…best ever. Wish I’d been able to make it last more than a nanosecond.”

I pressed my tongue against the corners of my mouth, gathering up the last traces of him. “My pleasure. Always. And…thank you.”

He twisted round to look at me. “For what?”

“For”—I kissed him lightly, my lips still throbbing a little—“letting me suffer for you.”

He said something that sounded like ngh, cuddled, if possible, even closer, and once again, we slept.

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