Page 11 of Kissing the Grump

We hadn't moved far from our old building two months ago when we'd decided to take the next step in our relationship. The location made it easy for him to get to the coffee shop, but we now have beautiful silence surrounding us most of the time.

Over the last twelve months, he's lost all trace of shyness with me. I've made damn sure of that by worshiping his body as often as possible. I knew he'd be just as pale all over, and the first time I'd seen him fully naked, I'd been determined to keep him undressed as often as humanly possible. Without going to jail, of course.

Right now, his ass is lit pink from my hand because he begged for it. He always gets what he wants in the end, and tonight is no exception.

“Such a bossy thing,” I growl as I step behind him at the edge of the bed, guiding my lubed tip to his tight little ass that I've spent thirty minutes teasing and stretching with my tongue and fingers. I press forward, pushing my bare cock slowly inside him inch by inch. I soak up the moans that he nearly drowns by burying his face in one of our pillows. “You feel fucking amazing. So damn tight.”

I can't stop the groan that crawls up my throat. He feels too good, and I've been taunting him for so long that I've driven myself nearly to the edge. Last I checked, Elliot's dick was dripping precome onto our sheets, so I know it won't take much to drain every drop of come straight from his balls too.

“Oh god,” he whispers when I push deep, burying my cock inside him. When I pause to catch my breath so I don't immediately unload, he rocks back. “Move,” he pleads. “I need it.”

Helpless to deny him, I grip his hips and pull back. There's no slow and steady, building rhythm. I slam back inside him. Over and over, I feed off his moans. I could, and plan to, listen to that sound for the rest of my life. We've already started taking steps and I have no intention of ever stopping. He just doesn't know quite how serious I am yet. I hope he's ready, because I want him under me and on top of me every night until the end of time.

“I'm going to come,” he warns as he meets me thrust for thrust.

He's a greedy thing, and I absolutely love it. I love him, and that only heightens the sensation for me.

“Good. Make a mess all over the bed. Show me how good it feels,” I rasp as I try to hold back from finishing before he does. But my balls are drawing tight already, the pressure building to the point I know I'm seconds from blowing.

“I'm there.” The moan that rolls from his lips as he begins to fall apart for me is pure torture in the best way.

I can't hold back. Losing what little control I’d been clinging to, I push deep as I come hard, squeezing his hips in a vice grip. Taking a moment to steady myself, I stay inside him before I gently pull back, sliding my cock from his ass.

While we both pant for air, I can't help but watch as my come begins to leak out. It's sexy as hell. He's mine in every sense of the word. Well not every way. Not yet.

Elliot collapses on the bed, careless of the mess beneath him. I wish we could both clean up and fall asleep early, but we have dinner reservations. If we don't get moving, we aren't going to make them in time.

“Get up, lazy butt. We have plans, remember?” I give his ass another swat just because I want to.

He peeks through barely cracked eyelids. “Do we have to? Can't we just stay in tonight and watch a show?”

“You mean fall asleep on me halfway through one episode.” It never fails, and it never gets old. I love watching him sleep.

He smiles. “Same thing.”

I consider the new plan. I'd wanted to do things the right way, a public gesture of sorts. But in the end, wasn't our future about the two of us? All of our most significant moments had always been alone. Maybe I've had the wrong idea all along.

“Well, at least get up and shower with me. Then we can watch whatever you want.” I walk to the dresser to grab us both fresh lounge clothes to change into.

He sighs as he rolls over and scoots off the bed. “If I must.”

I chuckle as I follow him into the bathroom and crank on the shower. He still looks drowsy, swaying on his feet a bit, so I make quick work of washing us both.

After we're dried off and dressed in loose shorts and t-shirts, I strip the bed and toss the sheets into the hamper. I make a pitstop by my nightstand, and then we plop down on the couch.

“Hand me the remote, please,” he says as he leans against my side.

I wrap an arm around him, holding him close. When he lifts his hand expecting the remote, I take a deep breath as I slide something out of my pocket and place it onto his palm. He frowns as he pulls his hand down, and then his eyes widen as he whips his head to the side and stares at me wordlessly.

I'm nervous all of a sudden. Well, more nervous than I'd already been.

Pulling my arm back from around him, I slide off the couch, kneeling on one knee in front of him. I take the small velvet box from his hand.

“Forrest,” he gasps. “What are you doing?”

Well, that isn't the response I was hoping for, so I hesitate. “Do you want me to stop?”

He quickly shakes his head. “No, I just… Please don't stop.”

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