Page 31 of Spring Breakup
Dean glanced up at him and curled his fingers hard. Tyler yelped and flailed as sensation shot from deep in his groin, radiating outward. He was close, he realized. All Dean would have to do was breathe on Tyler’s cock for him to come.
“If I wasn’t adamantly against being farther than three inches from your body, I’d go get a dildo. Fill you up. Then crawl up your body and fuck your chest until I bust on your face.”
“That. I want that.”
“I’m not leaving.”
“The chest thing. I want that.” He reached for Dean to drag him up there, his own pleasure all but forgotten.
But of course, Dean wasn’t having that. He fucked Tyler hard with his fingers and grabbed his balls.
Tyler’s head hitched back, and his fingers scrabbled against the wood floor.
“You like that?”
“Yes.” Tyler was almost there.
“Give me your hand.”
“Don’t stop touching me.”
“Give me your fucking hand.”
Tyler lifted his hand toward Dean. Dean licked every finger, then spit in his palm.
“Jerk off.”
“Yes, thank you, thank you.” Tyler grabbed his dick, and Dean put his mouth back to Tyler’s hole. It was a crowded maze down there, but nothing had ever felt so amazing.
Tyler jerked himself, and just as he was about to come, Dean squeezed his nuts.
“Harder.” The word burst from Tyler’s mouth without forethought.
Dean squeezed harder.
It hurt, and it was everything Tyler had ever desired. His orgasm cracked through him. He writhed. And he might have yelled. And Dean might have squeezed even harder, might have pegged his prostrate like it was a self-destruct button, might have done any number of wonderful, pleasurably painful things. But Tyler was sound and motion and sensation. He was oblivious to anything but the shock of good feelings shooting him to the rafters.
Eventually, his ears stopped ringing, his limbs stopped twitching, and he opened his eyes. Dean looked feral.
“You are so fucking precious. You know that, right?” Dean slipped his body up, up, up Tyler’s.
“Huh?”
“A total delight. The absolute fucking best.” Dean straddled Tyler’s chest, pinned Tyler’s hands above his head, and dragged his cock up the midline between Tyler’s pecs. Tyler was sweaty and messy with come there, smoothing the way.
“What are you talk—”
“Shh. I’m having an orgasm here.” Dean fucked against Tyler’s chest with such power, it made Tyler breathless imagining the possibilities. He wanted that hardness, that force inside him.
“You are not.”
Dean transferred Tyler’s wrists to one hand and tightened his grip. He cupped his other hand over the top of his dick, pressing it harder to Tyler’s chest and creating a tunnel for it to shuttle through.
“Yet. So close, though. I’m gonna draw your O face. Wasn’t lying ’bout that. It was spectacular… And you taste good. Did I tell you that?”
Dean’s words felt playful, but his voice was dead serious and his body was too, the slinging of his hips cocky.
“What in the world are you saying? I don’t…” The veins in Dean’s arm stood out in sharp relief, and his abdominal muscles tightened. “God, you’re hot,” Tyler blurted.
