Page 40 of Strawberry Moon

He gasped and started to pull away, but I forced my hips up to meet him, wrapping my legs tight around his hips.

“Archer—”

“Gimme it.” Two college degrees, and that was the culmination of my linguistic skills.

But it did the trick, because Ford didn’t try to pull away again. No, he thrust hard inside me, pushing his—fuck, hisknotinto my ass. I ground against him, seeking friction on my cock as the knot grew, filling me up so completely, so perfectly—

His hand reached between us, wrapping around me and giving a hard jerk, then another. Those work-roughened hands, that perfect cock, and I just... my thoughts flew apart, my veins replaced with electricity as I jerked and whined beneath Ford, coming undone at his hand.

For long moments, we lay there, panting, wrapped up in each other, coming down from the high of orgasm.

Except... except I didn’t come down, not really. I came about halfway down, and immediately, my body started amping up again, like just the fact that Ford’s cock was still in me was foreplay, and not a sticky finish.

Like my body was demanding more cock, when really, it was at full capacity. I mean, maybe if it was a porno I could manage two, but I was a normal guy, with a normal asshole. One was plenty. One with a fucking knot was already maybe pushing it.

I clenched around him and he moaned, burying his face between my neck and shoulder, tightening his hold on my body. Instead of complaining that I was a bother, he rolled so that he was on his back, still panting, and nodded to me.

“Take whatever you need, Archer. It’s okay.”

Embarrassingly enough, that was when I burst into tears. No one had ever, in my entire life, offered me anything like that before. How the hell was I supposed to deal with that?

27

Ford

Istared up into his luminous face, and I watched it crumble. His cheeks turned splotchy, his eyes glassy, before I had any idea what was going on.

His legs went slack, his full weight on my hips. Hands braced on my chest, he held himself up, but when he slumped forward his copper hair fell in front of his eyes.

“Hey. Hey, it’s okay.” I sat up, my muscles strained from fucking already. But Archer needed me, and a lifetime working on the farm had given me plenty of strength. I wrapped my arms around him to run my hands down his shaking back. “I’m sorry if I said something wrong or—”

Already, he was shaking his head, so I shut my mouth, terrified I’d hurt him somehow. His body curved into mine to press his forehead against my shoulder. His wet lashes fluttered against my skin.

“You didn’t.”

Archer Sterling, a man who’d always known his mind and had, when he’d first come to Grovetown, told Ridge right where to stick it, had gone quiet on me.

It wasn’t so weird. He was in heat, clarity of thought didn’t come with the territory there, but I wasn’t sure what to do with him now, when I could feel his vulnerability between my hands with every shaking gasp.

Gently, I eased back and touched his chin, guiding him to look at me again. There were tears streaking down his cheeks, glittering in starlight. With both hands, I cupped his face and brushed them away with my thumbs.

“I swear to you, Archer, it’s okay. I’m here for whatever you need.”

I didn’t know if that was the right thing to say or not, because his lip started trembling, and when he pushed his teeth into it, it was hard enough to pucker his soft flesh.

How did I make him believe me, after I’d been such a dick to him? Here he was, in over his head doing something entirely new, and with someone he couldn’t trust—me. I’d earned that doubt, but there was nothing I wouldn’t do to make him feel safe now.

“I promise you”—I held him steady between both hands, stared straight up into his wide, dark eyes—“it’s okay to be overwhelmed, but you don’t need to be scared. I’ll take care of you.”

“I’m not scared,” he rasped.

And fuck, I didn’t have time to parse what was bothering him then, because he threaded his fingers through my hair and tugged me forward. His lips tasted like salt tears and peach slices, and his tongue was a tricky little thing, working into my mouth as he squirmed closer.

I stayed upright by holding onto him, and his grip on my shoulders, that tension between our bodies, was all that allowed him to move. He rocked on my dick, trapped by my knot buried so deep inside him.

Pleasure sparked in stars behind my eyelids. The knot was shrinking, but my cock was raw and used and pulsing inside him.

Against my lips, Archer whined. I opened for him, gripping him close as his muscles clenched. He rode me in hasty, aborted thrusts, his dick trapped against my stomach, smearing a streak of wet that clung to his tip in a single wet strand.

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