Page 82 of Rainbow Rodeo

“Damn, baby.” Two fingers became three in short order, Tank fucking him but good.

“Please. Oh, please.” He would feel bad for begging if his words didn’t make Tank moan.

“You need more?” Tank asked.

“I need your cock. I need you to fuck me. Hard.”

“Oh, baby, those are my favorite words.” Tank pulled free, but only long enough to glove up and get slick.

The sight of that hand on Tank’s prick was enough to make his mouth dry. He watched all the way until Tank was pushing inside him, cock spreading him deep and pegging him in his gut and making him arch into the thrust.

Dalton cried out, his body bowing back, trying to adjust. Tank didn’t give him a chance, though. He just pressed in, slamming them together. That hard body met his over and over, Tank keeping him off-balance.

Finally he had to go with it, breathe and fly and let Tank take him where he needed to go. He watched Tank’s face and rolled with every move, knowing Tank wouldn’t leave him wanting. There was no question Tank was right there with him, focused on him.

Those hands kept him in place, steady and strong.

“Tank. Fuck. Don’t stop.” He kept babbling, lost in the sensations. His cock was trapped between them, rubbing madly on Tank’s fuzzy belly, leaving damp kisses, the friction buzzing his cockhead.

Tank moaned, hips rocking, muscles sliding smoothly under skin.

“You feel… fuck. So good.”

“Uh-huh. Good.” Those dark eyes were heavy lidded, Tank’s face flushed, his words short and sharp. “You fucking rock my world, baby.”

God. He was so lost. So far gone. He was gonna just explode.

“Gonna make you come on my cock. Gonna make you fly.” Tank’s words made his mouth dry, made his balls pull right up, and all he could do was nod.

Tank slammed in deep, pushing him across the sheets as their skin slapped together. The burn made Dalton cry out, made him grab Tank’s shoulders and hold on tight. Tank rode him like it was the short-go and there was a million-dollar purse on the line.

Like it was the only thing Tank ever wanted to do.

“Come on, baby! Come on. Let go.”

He threw his head back, scalp dragging on the bedsheets as he let out a wild cry, knowing no one would hear. Seed burst out of him, landing on Tank’s belly, easing the red-hot friction a tiny bit.

Tank grunted, eyes going wide, and he sawed back and forth for maybe half a minute. Then Tank came for him, pulsing deep inside him, before landing on him with a thud. “Damn.”

“Uh-huh.”

Tank glanced up, then smiled before taking a sloppy kiss. “Like your bed, baby.”

“Thank you.”Fuck yeah.

“Mmm.” Tank withdrew gently so they could both clean up. “Now, c’mere.”

Tank was a snuggler. Like a hard-core, hold-on, arms-like-steel-bands snuggler.

Dalton adored it. So unexpected.

Tank wrapped around him, nose in his hair. “Good deal.”

“Welcome.” Dalton stroked Tank’s damp skin, so glad to be home.

He loved his job, loved to ride, but home was… yeah. Being here settled his bones, gave him strength to go back on the road.

Tank’s heavy hand helped. A lot.

---