Page 26 of The Contract

I know he’s going to attack me when I see the steel in his eyes. I let him lunge. I even let him get in a shallow slice across my left pectoral as I twist to avoid the worst of it. I whack the side of my hand against his wrist. The knife goes flying from his grip. His eyes widen as I grab and spin him. I pin him against the island again. He cries out in surprise when I yank his hips toward me and kick his legs apart.

Tristan’s hands brace against the edge of the counter as my slick fingers massage and prod his hole.

“Oh my god,” he mutters. “Oh my god.”

I wish there were a mirror across from us so I could see his face. I have to focus instead on the way he shivers and makes little sounds of distress and pleasure. His hole clenches against the intrusion of my fingers, but I push in anyway.

“Stop!” he shouts. “That hurts!”

“It’ll feel better in a minute.” I work my fingers inside him until he relaxes.

“Oh my god,” he mutters again. “Fuuuuuck. Oh mygod.”

“Better?”

“Fuck you,” he says, though it’s half a moan as he shudders against the counter. I’m grazing his prostate.

“I need to talk to you,” I tell him.

“Wh-what?”

“I want to know why you were so angry with me.”

He starts to push up from the counter. “Why the hell do you think?” I push him back down and force another finger into his ass. “Fuck, Dante!”

I think that’s the first time I’ve actually heard my name on his lips. I reward him with another graze of his prostate. His forehead drops to the counter. He makes a whining sound that has my leaking dick twitching upward.

He’s almost ready for my cock, so I say, “Answer my question. The truth.”

“Fuckyou.”

God, he’s still so angry. I withdraw my fingers and set my cockhead against his hole.

“Oh, shit,” he mutters. “Oh my—ahh!”

My brain nearly whites out at the grip of his tight ring on my cockhead. I grunt and push in another inch. His scream is sharp and he yanks upright, so I wait. He’s vocalizing, but there aren’t any discernible words.

I can tell he’s adjusting to it, so I pin him down and push into the hot, tight space of his ass in a slow, relentless glide.

“Fuck!” he barks. “You fucking asshole!”

I pull back and glide in again. Pleasure zips through my balls and cock.

“Stop! I don’t—”

I decide I’m being too nice. The slowness is just giving him a chance to resist. So I start fucking him.

He shouts. He screams. He thrashes. I fucking love it.

I can tell the second he gives in. His whole body changes. It gets supple. His ass tilts against me.

Yeah, I thought so. I angle my thrusts to hit his prostate. He moans.

My lubed cock is making filthy sounds in his ass. My balls are slapping audibly against him. Those sounds, combined with his moans, make me grit my teeth against the urge to come.

Tristan reaches down and starts stroking himself. There we go.

It doesn’t take long after that. I’m hitting his prostate on every thrust. His hand is jerking frantically. The second he screams, I unleash myself on his ass. I pound hard and fast until my own orgasm is ripping its way through my body. My hips snap forward as my cock kicks inside him, filling him with my cum.

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