Page 80 of Deck the Fire Halls

Do something?

I half-pulled out and pushed back in, all the way. “Like that?”

He cried out. “Yes. Please.”

So I did it again, and he groaned out a pitiful sound, a gruff keening noise. And the more I did it, the more guttural he sounded.

He loved it.

Getting dicked like this.

He lifted his hips and widened his legs, and I droveinto him, slow and deep. He felt so good, so fucking good. Hot and tight, as if he was made just for me.

He slipped his hand underneath his hip and began to stroke himself, and I wasn’t having that.

I pulled out of him and flipped him over, spreading his thighs wide and pushing his knees up so I could just sink right back in. I fell forward onto my left hand, my eyes on his as I wrapped my right hand around his cock.

“This what you wanted?” I asked, working him slowly, kissing him, pulling his bottom lip in between my teeth.

“Oh god, yes,” he hissed. His eyes went wide, his hands flailed until they found my chest.

He tweaked my nipple and it sent jolts of pleasure straight to my dick. “Fuck,” I ground out as I thrust into him, hard and sharp.

He yelped but he did it again, earning him another hard and sharp flex of my hips. His eyes went wide with surprise, his mouth open. “Fuck, right there,” he cried. “Oh fuck. There.”

Then he kept flicking my nipples wanting more and more, and I realized what was happening. The change of position, the surprised look of ecstasy on his face, how his cock jerked in my hand.

I was hitting his prostate.

So I held him right there and rammed into him, jerking him at the same time. It was unforgiving, without restraint, and so fucking hot.

Then his whole body went rigid, his thighs trembled, and his ass clenched hard around me as his orgasm took hold.

He groaned, teeth clenched, hands shaking, and shot his load onto his stomach.

It was too much, too good, his body squeezing my cock as he shuddered, milking me, milking my orgasm from my balls. I drove into him one last time, as deep as I could go, and pumped my load into the condom.

My world went dark and quiet, spinning in utter bliss. I came back to reality with Rob’s hands cupping my face, and I allowed myself to collapse on him.

He lowered his legs to the mattress, expelling me from inside him. We both shuddered but he made a pained sound. “You okay?” I asked quickly.

“Sensitive,” he said, then his whole body tremored, jerking, and he laughed. “God help me. Whatever that was...”

I snorted, collecting him in my arms and pulling the covers over us. I’d deal with the mess and the condom later. He needed to be held first. “That was amazing,” I whispered, kissing the side of his head. “That’s what that was.”

He shuddered and shivered again. “No, I mean . . . Uh. Whatever that was. I’ve never . . .”

“A prostate orgasm?”

He grunted out a laugh, shuddering again. “I’ve heard they’re good.”

Smiling, I kissed his temple, his forehead, his eyelids, then his lips. “I had plans to do you slowly tonight, but I think that was better.”

“So good,” he mumbled. “Slow next time.” He was heavy in my arms, as if sleep was dragging him under.

I gave him a long squeeze, breathing in the scent of us. “Go to sleep.”

He was already out, and I lay there for a second, watching him in the darkened room, his face a pale outline. His closed eyelids, dark lashes, the Cupid’s bow of his top lip.

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