Page 34 of Angel

“Fuck, yes! Oh god, Angelo! Fuck!” I slam myself down on Angel again and again. I slide my hands along his body, dig my fingers into his soft, rounded belly.

He grunts when I do that and his hands tighten on my hips. That’s all I need to push me over the edge. I come hands-free, cum spraying everywhere as I keep fucking myself on Angel’s cock. It lands all over his stomach and my hands. It flies up to hit me on the chin. I’m pretty sure a few drops even land on the camera lens since Sebastian moved in for a close-up.

I slow as the orgasm recedes, but I don’t stop and I definitely don’t let Angel’s cock slip out of me. It’s still hard as a rock and if I clench around him, I get another mini-orgasm.

Angel’s holding himself stock-still under me, practically vibrating. His fingers are a vise around my hips and he’s got his bottom lip caught between his teeth. His eyes are a little wild, like he’s on his last strand of self-control.

But he doesn’t move, doesn’t fuck up into me like I’m sure he wants to. He doesn’t flip us over and pound himself into me until I’m a pile of smithereens. Angel is too good for that, too gentle. I’ll have to ask him for it, maybe even demand it, if I want him to wreck my hole. And I do, fucking hell, I want it so fucking bad.

I lean down, breath hitching as his cock shifts inside me, and lick up the cum I’ve painted him with. It’s everywhere, which gives me a good excuse to lick everywhere. Every inch of his furry stomach. Every inch of his broad chest. I make a point of swirling my tongue around his nipples a couple times, and the way his body jerks in response sends another aftershock through me.

He tastes salty from the sweat, bitter from my cum. But beneath the scent of sex, he still smells like fresh sawdust, like a cedarwood sauna, like a walk in a pine forest. I want to lick him all over. I want to bury my nose in the crook of his neck. I want to burrow myself into Angel’s softness and never leave.

“That’s good,” Sebastian says, interrupting my feast. “Switch positions?”

Reluctantly, I lift myself off Angel’s dick. When it slips out of me, I’m left gaping and open. Empty. Bereft. My hole clenches around nothing and a sudden chill sweeps across my sweat-covered skin. I shiver, and not in a good way.

The bed dips as Angel pushes himself up to a seated position. I sense more than feel his big body behind me, and when I turn to look over my shoulder, he’s right there. Our gazes meet and the warmth of his eyes chases away all traces of cold.

Oh god, I’m in really dangerous fucking territory. It would be so easy to fall for Angel, to forget the first rule of gay club and throw my heart straight into a woodchipper. He’s everything I want in a man, the perfect fantasy I dreamed up when I was a teenager and wanted to be swept off my feet. But despite the flirty conversations we’ve had over the past few weeks and what we’re doing today, I can’t assume that Angel is suddenly gay and wants to be in a relationship with someone like me.

Sebastian claps his hands once, jolting me out of my thoughts.

“Next up, we’ve got Rhys on his hands and knees on the bed. Angel, you’ll be standing behind him. Make sense?” Sebastian gestures to where he wants us. “And you guys can take off the rest of your clothes too.”

I only have the lace panties all twisted around my hips, so I quickly shimmy out of them. Angel takes a bit longer to untangle himself from his clothes. He folds each item and neatly sets them all on a chair in the corner. His boots are lined up perfectly under the chair, laces tucked inside. Watching him move so deliberately, taking so much care with something so simple, makes my heart do dangerous, ill-advised things in my chest.

I scramble into position so I don’t end up making moon eyes at Angel. I’ve done enough of that already today, and I’m pretty sure Sebastian’s noticed. He’ll be on the phone to Hayden as soon as we’re done here and I’ll never hear the end of it when I get home.

Sebastian calls “Action!” and Angel steps between my legs, his thighs brushing against my ankles. He’s supposed to grab me by the hips and fuck me from behind, but there’s no grabbing.

Instead, one large, rough hand slides up the outside of my thigh, then covers my ass cheek. Another hand joins it on my other ass cheek. Together they pull me apart.

I moan and arch my back, tilting my ass up in his hands. His thumbs dip into my crease, running up and down the sensitive skin and tugging gently at my hole. I’m open and loose enough that he can probably see inside me. I bet I’m all pink down there, glistening from the lube.

“Wow.” The single word comes out in a whisper. Astonished and amazed.

It sends a shudder running through me and my hole quivers with the need to be filled. “Fuck, Angelo, please!” I need his cock inside me. I need him stretching me wide.

But Angel seems too preoccupied with my hole to get to the fucking. He drags one finger down my crease, from my tailbone all the way to my hole. Then he pets me with the tip of his finger.

I whimper and wiggle my hips. I drop down to my elbows and push myself back. “Angeee—” A gasp cuts off my drawn-out whine as Angel dips his finger inside me.

Slowly, with just the tip, like he’s testing the waters. I bear down like the experienced bottom I am and his finger slips deeper inside.

“Fuck, yesss! More! Give me more!” Did I mention I was a greedy little bottom? I might be a tad bossy too.

“Go ahead. Put another finger in,” Sebastian instructs. “You can fuck him like that for a bit.”

A second later, I feel the extra girth. Just like every other part of his body, Angel’s fingers are thick, so two of his are more like three of anyone else’s. And when he pumps them in and out of me, it’s almost like I’m being worked over with a mini-dildo.

“More!” I demand.

When Angel inserts a third finger, I throw my head back at the delicious stretch. It’s still nowhere close to having his cock inside me, but I’m pleasantly filled like this. If I could get a butt plug made in the shape of his three fingers, I’d wear it around every fucking day.

Behind me, Angel’s breathing is getting louder and louder. The hand on my hip grips me tighter. But he keeps the pace of his fingers nice and slow, in and out, no rush, no hurry.

My dick is hard again, not that it went fully soft at any point. But it’s now pulsing to the rhythm of Angel’s fingerfucking, one gentle swell of pleasure after another. He’s driving me fucking mad.

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