Page 38 of Loving You

Which was soon.

Very,verysoon.

He palmed himself with one hand as his other gave Monty a few fast strokes. His lover was babbling between French and English, though they were all half words, making no sense. Bronx loved listening to him like this.

“You are so perfect,” he said, pulling his face back. He laid a few biting kisses along the globes of Monty’s ass, then pushed up high on his knees. They popped loudly, but he ignored the sounds as he reached across the duvet and grabbed the bottle of lube.

Monty let out a shuddering breath as he turned his face to the side. His torso was lowered against the pillows he was hugging, his thighs trembling as he held his position. Bronx ran his hands over his soft, heated skin.

“Want to be on your back?”

Monty shook his head against the mattress. “Mm, no. No. Like this. I want to feel you around me.”

Bronx swallowed heavily as he freed himself from his jeans. He kicked them to the side where he’d left his shirt, and then he stood, feeling blood rush to his dick. He was so hard he wanted to cry, and he dribbled precome as he stared at Monty open, needy, so fucking patient for him.

He popped open the lube cap and smeared some on his fingers before running them around Monty’s hole. He twitched, the black, thick whorls of hair clumping from the gel, and Bronx slid one finger inside. He was tight—Christ, he was so tight. He spasmed around Bronx, at first involuntary, and then like he was trying to draw him in further.

“Like that?” Bronx asked him, kissing up his spine. He laid his hips over Monty’s, feeling the movement in the curve of his ass as he tried to thrust against the bed. Bronx kept his free hand around his waist, forcing his hips to remain in the air. “Not so fast, sparky. Not until I let you.”

Monty shuddered and let out a sharp breath of air. “Please.”

Bronx kissed the back of his neck. “Be a good boy for me. You can do that, can’t you?”

“Ah, ouais. Yes.” The words tumbled out like a whine, and Monty’s hips continued to move restlessly, helplessly.

Uselessly.

Bronx’s dick throbbed, and he shoved it behind Monty’s balls, thrusting forward. “Feel that? Feel how much I want you.”

“Please,” Monty whispered.

“Soon, gorgeous. I promise.” He pushed another finger in, stretching him wide, fucking them in deep. “One of these days, I want to watch you fall apart on my hand.”

Monty sobbed and nodded, spreading his legs a little wider as Bronx continued to thrust between his legs. The head of his cock bumped Monty’s low-hanging balls softly with a littletap tap tap. Fuck, it felt so good to hold him like this, to have him at his mercy.

He wanted to make him wait for it, beg for it, lose his mind as Bronx drew it out.

Letting Monty go, he fumbled for the strip of condoms and pulled his fingers out, watching as Monty’s hole twitched like it didn’t want to be empty. He groaned softly as he tore the packet open and rolled it on, squeezing himself at the base to pull himself back from the edge.

“Are you ready for me?”

“I’ve been ready for a hundred years,” Monty bit out. He strained to look over his shoulder, his eyes glazed and narrow.

Bronx laughed as he rubbed the head of his cock between Monty’s cheeks. It caught on his rim, and Montygasped, thrusting back, though Bronx wouldn’t let him take. Not yet. This was his moment.

He pressed his hand against the small of Monty’s back to still him. “Still, sparky. Take a breath. You’re gonna come, but I’m gonna make you work for it.”

Monty let out a quiet noise of protest, but his legs spread further, and Bronx very carefully pushed inside. It was a slow slide, not easy. It had obviously been a long time since Monty had taken a dick, and while Bronx wanted to make him a little wild with lust, he didn’t want to hurt him. That had never been his thing.

He stroked a hand down Monty’s spine, watching his body relax with every shallow thrust until—after a short forever—he was buried deep. Monty grunted as Bronx’s hips met his with a soft slap, and he pulled out, thrusting forward faster. Harder.

Slap, slap, slap.

Bronx’s throat was tight, and his muscles were tense with the effort to hold back. It had been a while for him too. Too fucking long, actually. And right now, he was wondering how he’d lived so long without this.

“I’m going to come,” Monty said.

Bronx wrapped an arm around him and squeezed the base of Monty’s dick tight enough to hold it off. “Not yet.”

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