Page 41 of Crossed Sticks

I increased the pressure, and finally, the tight ring of muscle yielded. I slid halfway inside, stunned by the pleasure of being caught in his snug heat. For a moment, I remained still, aching to move but knowing he needed to get used to me. He was moaning softly, and when he sighed, I moved my hips. A sharp hiss escaped him as he clenched hard, trapping me in a viselike grip. I wondered if he’d ever been fucked at all.

His entire body was rigid, and I leaned close enough to kiss his throat. Scents of sweat and arousal clung to him, and I licked the back of his neck, enjoying the salty flavor. I was planting small kisses across his shoulder when he sighed; once I felt him relax, I moved my hips again. We groaned as I slid the rest of theway inside. I held still again, and for a moment, our breaths were the only sounds in the room.

“God, that’s so good,” he said. “Never been stretched like this before.”

I muttered between breaths. “You feel fucking awesome. Ready for more?”

He pushed up on his elbows. “Yes. Go slow at first?”

I placed a hand on his shoulder and pushed him down. Moving slowly, I backed my dick partially out of him, then pushed it back in to the hilt.

“You’re fucking huge.” His voice was strangled, and he clenched around me yet again.

His grip wasn’t as strong this time, so I moved slowly, letting him get used to the in-and-out movements. He moaned with every stroke, and when his sphincter relaxed, I asked, “You okay? Need another minute?”

“No, I’ve waited too long for this.”

I started fucking him a bit faster.

“Shit. Like that.”

Settling my full weight on him, I sped up more. He got louder, and excitement crackled between us when I slid two fingers between his lips, fucking his mouth in time with my thrusts. His distorted cries bordered on incoherent, and the reckless exhilaration of owning both his holes made me wild. I fucked him hard and fast, and his frantic, muffled cries left no doubt that I was giving him what he wanted.

“Ng ng!”

Apparently, he was ready for more, so I slid my fingers from his mouth and pressed down on his upper back while I rammed him.

“Harder, please!” He drew the second word out into a squeal, finishing with, “Fuck mehard, Luca.”

“Did I ask you?”

“Please.”

“Shut the fuck up and take it.”

He grunted for a few seconds, then begged again. “Harder, Luca.”

I adjusted my position slightly, pinning him to the bed and then slamming into him as forcefully as I could.

“Yes!”

“Say… you… love it.”

“Love it.” He struggled for air, then yelled, “Fuck me, you bastard!”

“Dirty little slut!”

His cry of joy echoed off the walls. “Don’t stop!”

I pounded him with everything I had. When I slid my fingers into both sides of his mouth, pulling it taut, his desperate pleas contorted into frenzied moans. All at once, he cried out and shuddered, tightening rhythmically around my cock. He was coming, flat on his stomach, without either of us touching his dick.

That was all it took for me, and in a rush of euphoria, I pulled my fingers free of his lips and yelled, “Coming!”

The first shot knocked the wind out of me, and I sank my teeth into Harper’s shoulder, making him cry out again. Our hoarse grunts peppered the air while I filled the condom inside him.

“Luca,” he whispered, “you’re everything.”

As disoriented as I was, my heart—still hammering against my rib cage—gave an extra kick. I’m everything. Harper thinks I’m everything.

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