Page 38 of Hell and Gone
“You’ll feel it,” Lawrence promised. “You’ll feelme. I swear it.”
Lawrence carried him to the trailer. Everett stroked his face, peppered his head with kisses. Traced his jaw, the stubble growing in. Ran his fingers through Lawrence’s dark hair. The door opened. Everett ducked his head, and Lawrence carried him over the threshold.
The trailer was worn inside, like a time capsule from the 1970s. Battered wood paneling lined the walls, peeling in areas. Plastic lawn chairs surrounded a laminate table next to a tiny galley kitchen. One narrow hallway led left to a bedroom, little more than a flat platform with a large mattress on it. Sleeping bags cluttered the floor. Cowboys had shared the mattress, bundled in sleeping bags, in the past.
Lawrence carried him down the hall and dropped him on the mattress. There was no sheet. He felt the springs coil and complain, groan and scream as he bounced.
Then Lawrence was on top of him, crawling over him and pushing him down. They kissed again, bodies gliding together, cocks rubbing, chest to chest. Everett wrapped his leg around Lawrence’s hip as Lawrence threaded his thigh between Everett’s legs.
Lawrence ran kisses down Everett’s chest, his stomach. Over his belly button, to his hips. Then there was heat and suction, and he grabbed Lawrence’s hair, hissed, and spread his legs wide, feet planted flat on the mattress. He quivered, right on the edge, a breath away from—
Lawrence pulled back with a pop, sitting on his heels and stroking Everett’s thighs. Cursing, Everett shuddered, backing down from the edge of orgasm. “Cruel,” he gasped, smiling as a rush coursed through him. He felt this. Felt alive, finally.
“You have a beautiful smile,” Lawrence said softly. His hands massaged Everett’s thighs, ran up to his knees. “I hadn’t seen it yet.”
Swallowing, Everett’s smile fell.
He rolled over. Pushed to his knees and lifted his ass. “Fuck me.”
The mattress whined as Lawrence stood. Everett lowered his head, let it hang between his shoulders. He closed his eyes and waited.
Sounds, but not behind him. From deeper in the trailer near the kitchen. He turned, searching for Lawrence.
He was rifling through the cupboards, searching for something. Finally he grabbed a bottle and came back, holding it out. “Cooking oil,” he said. “It’s old. But it will do the job.”
Everett’s ass clenched. He went back to his elbows and knees, ass up. “Hurry.”
Hands grabbed his waist. He clenched his teeth.
Lawrence turned him gently, urging him to lay on his back. Hands stroked down his chest, massaged his skin. Caressed him. “Not like that,” Lawrence murmured. “I want to see your face.”
“No.” Everett tried to twist away. He threw an arm up, covered his face with his forearm. “No, that’s not—"
“Everett.” Lawrence peeled his arm away as he crawled between his spread legs. “Let me see you.”
“Just hurry up already!” Everett snapped. He pushed his hips into Lawrence’s, grabbed his own cock and jerked it hard. “Fuckme! Don’t you want this?”
Lawrence poured the oil into his hand, slicked Everett and himself, and settled between his legs. He lined himself up. Everett hissed, arched his back, and held his breath.
Fingers laced through his. Lawrence fell over him, propping himself on his elbows, chest to chest, face to face. His lips pressed to Everett’s as his cock pushed inside his hole, agonizingly slow.
It had been alongtime. Everett gasped, groaned. Squeezed his eyes closed and panted. His teeth clenched hard. He whined, panted into Lawrence’s kisses and his open mouth.
Slowly, so fucking slowly, Lawrence pushed in until he was as deep as he could go.
He kissed Everett until they shared breaths. He stayed still, his hard cock throbbing inside Everett’s stretched hole. Everett’s legs wrapped around his waist.
He couldn’t speak, not around the kisses they shared, the breaths. Lawrence was everywhere, all around him. Over him, inside of him. He tasted him, smelled him. Was a part of him. He squeezed his ass, felt Lawrence embedded to the hilt. He had Lawrence buried inside of him, deeper than he’d ever had anyone. Lawrence was big everywhere, bigger than he’d ever had.
He wanted it. He wanted to break open.
He wanted Lawrence to be the man to do it.
Lawrence started to move in slow circles, barely at all, his hips pulling back and pushing in the barest amount. He raked over Everett’s deepest core, and Everett shuddered. He squeezed his hands in Lawrence’s, their fingers still laced together and pressed to the mattress on either side of his head. Each thrust of Lawrence’s hips fucked a moan out of Everett. A curse. A plea for more.
He arched his back and pushed against Lawrence when Lawrence pressed in. Rocked his hips in time with Lawrence’s thrusts.
It was Lawrence’s turn to gasp and curse, bury his face in the side of Everett’s neck. Kisses mapped the skin from Everett’s ear to the pulse on his neck, fluttering beneath his skin.
