Page 43 of The Highwaymen

Lost to the haze of pleasure, Stu slept on, his chest rising and falling steadily even as his hips began to rock in shallow thrusts. He pumped lazily into my throat, seeking more of that slick, perfect heat.

I could tell he was getting close by the way his thighs tensed, his balls drawing up tight to his body. Pre-cum flooded my mouth, turning my saliva slippery and salt-bitter.

Stu's whole body began to tense, coiled tight as a spring, his abs flexing and releasing under my splayed hand. Suddenly, Stu's whole body seized up, his back arching off the bed as a hoarse shout tore from his throat. His eyes flew open, hazy and unfocused with the force of his release.

Thick, bitter spurts of cum exploded across my tongue as Stu shuddered and jerked beneath me. I swallowed instinctively, my throat working to take down every drop of his release.

Stu's fingers clenched reflexively in my hair as his orgasm crashed through him, gripping me tight as he poured himself down my throat. I held him deep, savoring the pulsing heat of him, the way his cock jerked and throbbed against my tongue. I swallowed again and again, milking him dry until he collapsed back against the pillows with a shuddering groan.

For a long moment, I simply rested my head on his hip, my lips still wrapped around his softening cock. I felt dazed, drunk on the taste of him, the intimacy of what I'd just done. My own dick throbbed almost painfully between my legs, my balls drawn up tight and aching. I was so turned on I could barely breathe through it, my skin feverish and too tight.

Slowly, reluctantly, I let Stu's cock slip from my mouth. It fell against his belly with a soft, wet sound, shiny with my saliva. I watched, transfixed, as a final pearly drop of cum welled from the tip andslid down the shaft. The urge to lean in and lap it up was almost overwhelming.

Dragging my gaze away, I glanced up at Stu's face. His head was thrown back, eyes closed, chest heaving with labored breaths. A light sheen of sweat glistened on his skin, darkening the hair at his temples.

As I watched, Stu's eyes fluttered open, hazy and unfocused. He blinked slowly, as if surfacing from a deep dream. When his gaze finally settled on me, there was a rawness there, a vulnerability that made my breath catch.

“Jamie?” His voice was a rasp, rough with sleep and satiation. “What...?”

I licked my lips, tasting him there. “You were dreaming,” I said softly. “Moaning my name.”

Stu's brow furrowed as he struggled to orient himself, to separate the dream from reality. I saw the moment it clicked, his eyes widening fractionally as he took in our intimate position, his softening cock still slick from my mouth.

Color crept up his neck, blooming across his cheeks. It was a fascinating sight on a man usually so composed. I couldn't help but stare, transfixed by the evidence of his pleasure, the lingering blush of release.

“Fuck, kid.” Stu dragged a hand over his face, looking dazed. “You didn’t have to... I didn't mean to...”

“Shhh.” I pressed a finger to his lips, savoring the rasp of stubble against my skin. “I wanted to. I've wanted to for so long.”

I leaned in and replaced my finger with my lips, kissing him slow and deep. Stu made a soft sound of surprise, but then he was kissing me back, his mouth opening under mine. The taste of him only inflamed my desire, knowing I was marking him, claiming him from the inside out.

Stu's hand cupped the back of my neck, his fingers tangling in my hair as he held me to him. There was a desperation in his kiss, a raw hunger that echoed my own. We devoured each other, lips and teeth and tongue, breathing each other's air.

I pressed closer, draping myself over Stu's larger body. I could feel every inch of him, hot and hard against me. My aching cock nestled into the groove of his hip and I couldn't resist grinding against him, seeking friction. Stu groaned into my mouth, his hand tightening reflexively in my hair.

I tore my lips from his to trail open-mouthed kisses along his jaw, down his throat. I nuzzled into the crook of his neck, inhaling deeply. The scent of him, of sex and sweat and something uniquely Stu, was intoxicating. I licked at his salty skin, savoring the flavor of him.

“Jamie,” he rasped, his voice gone gravelly with renewed arousal. “Fuck, Jamie.”

Hearing my name fall from his lips like a plea pushed me over the edge. A shudder ripped through me as I came, untouched, just from the sound of Stu's wrecked voice and the delicious friction of his body against mine. Ecstasy crashed over me in waves, whiting out my vision and stealing the breath from my lungs. I buried my face in Stu's neck to muffle my cries, my hips jerking erratically as I spilled between our bodies.

It seemed to go on forever, the pleasure cresting and breaking and cresting again until I thought I might shake apart from the force of it. Through it all, Stu held me close, one hand cradling the back of my head while the other stroked soothingly up and down my spine. He murmured soft, reassuring words into my hair as I shuddered and gasped my way through the aftershocks.

Finally, I collapsed against him, boneless and spent. My heart thundered in my ears and I could barely catch my breath. I felt wrung out in the best possible way, my body humming with satisfaction.

Stu's arms tightened around me, holding me close. I could feel the rapid rise and fall of his chest, the heat of his skin against mine. In that moment, I felt more connected to him than I ever had before, our sweat-slick bodies entwined, the evidence of our mutual pleasure sticky between us.

“Don’t leave me, Stu,” I whispered against his skin. “You can’t ever fucking leave me. Not when you made me yours.”

I clung to Stu, my face still buried in his neck, breathing him in. I felt raw, flayed open, like he'd reached inside my chest and cupped my furiously beating heart in his hands. It was terrifying and exhilarating all at once, this soul-deep need. I'd never felt anything like it before, this aching, desperate connection.

Stu's fingers carded through my hair, his blunt nails scraping gently against my scalp. “I’m right here,” he murmured, his deep voice rumbling through his chest and into mine. “And I'm not going anywhere without you.”

Jamie was sprawled acrossmy chest, his breath warm and even against my neck as he slept. Afternoon sunlight filtered through the grimy hotel curtains, casting the room in a washed-out yellow. I'd been awake for a while, just lying there and holding him, marveling at the strange twist of fate that brought us together.

It had been three days since that first charged, intimate moment, when I'd woken to Jamie's mouth on me, worshipping me with a reverence I'd never known. Three days of lying low in this shitty motel room, waiting for the heat to die down and for Jamie and Tammy's wounds to heal.

Tammy had been over a few times, but she was getting antsy to move on already. She wanted to do what she could to lay her husband’s remains to rest, and to salvage what she could of their life. I didn’t blame her. And so Tammy had set off on her own earlier in the day to do just that.

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