Page 51 of Saddles and Snowstorms
“Strange,” he admitted, voice strained. “But... not bad.”
I leaned down to press kisses along his spine as I continued to slowly work him open. When I felt him relaxing around me, I carefully added a second finger, watching for any signsof discomfort.
“Fuck,” he hissed, his back arching slightly.
“Too much?” I paused, concerned.
“No,” he groaned. “Don’t stop.”
I continued the slow stretch, working my fingers gently forward and back while searching for that spot I knew would make him see stars. When my fingertips brushed against it, Brooks jolted, a strangled cry escaping his lips.
“What the hell was that?” he gasped, looking back at me with wide eyes.
I couldn’t help but grin. “That, cowboy, is your prostate. And I’m just getting started.”
I focused my attention on that spot, massaging it with deliberate pressure while adding a third finger. Brooks was practically writhing beneath me now, his cock leaking onto the sheets.
“Please,” he moaned, his voice rougher than I’d ever heard it. “I need... I need...”
“What do you need, Brooks?” I asked, leaning down to whisper in his ear. “Tell me.”
“You,” he said simply. “Your cock. I need you… to fuck me.”
I smiled wide. “Turn over.”
I helped Brooks roll onto his back, careful of his injured ankle, and positioned a pillow beneath his hips. His face was flushed, his pupils blown wide with desire as he looked up at me. There was vulnerability there, but trust too—so much trust it made my chest ache.
“I want to see you,” I explained, my voice husky. “I want to watch you take all of me.”
He swallowed hard, clearly overwhelmed by the intimacy of the moment. This wasn’t just sex anymore. This was Brooks Callahan—solitary, guarded Brooks—opening himself up to me in every way possible.
“You sure you’re ready for this?” I asked, hovering over him, one hand braced beside his head.
Instead of answering, he reached up and pulled me down into a fierce kiss, his tongue pushing into my mouth with newfound confidence. When he finally released me, we were both breathless.
“I’m sure,” he said firmly. “Now get on with itbefore I change my mind.”
I chuckled as I reached for the lube. “Always so romantic.”
The corner of his mouth twitched. “You want poetry, go read a book.”
Despite his gruff words, there was a softness in his eyes that hadn’t been there before. I slicked myself up generously with lube, positioned myself at his entrance, and pressed forward with exquisite slowness.
Brooks’s breath hitched, his hands flying to grip my forearms. His fingers dug into my skin as I breached him, the tight heat almost overwhelming.
“You okay?” I whispered, pausing to let him adjust.
He nodded tightly, jaw clenched. “Don’t stop,” he managed. “Just... go slow. Fuck…”
I continued the gentle push forward, watching his face for any sign of discomfort. When I was buried to the hilt inside him, I stilled, giving him time to adjust to the fullness. His chest rose and fell rapidly, a sheen of sweat covering his brow.
“Jesus,” he breathed, his eyes wide with wonder. “You’re inside me. You’re really inside me.”
I couldn’t help but smile at the awe in his voice. “Yeah, I am. How’s it feel?”
“Full,” he said immediately. Then, after a moment: “Good. Really fuckin’ good.”
I leaned down to kiss him softly, my heart swelling at the vulnerability he was showing me. When I pulled back, his eyes were dark with desire.
