Page 167 of Still Bruised
Jude’s body tensed more and more, the lashes of Foster’s tongue sending him higher and higher. Time no longer had meaning. Minutes felt like hours. Hours like minutes. When his body could handle no more, he pushed Foster’s head away.
“I need you,” Jude pled, his body craving pleasure a tongue couldn’t provide.
“Move and I’ll lie down,” Foster said.
“No,” Jude whispered. He brought his knees to his chest, his body straining for Foster to make him whole.
Foster searched his face a moment before rising to his knees and pressing himself closer. Jude snagged the lube and filled his palm and Foster’s. As he coated his hole, Foster gripped his shaft and slid his fist down it a few times. When he angled hiscock, Jude whimpered. The anticipation already had his body trembling.
The slow glide of Foster inside was painful. Not physically, but the fact it took too long. Foster finally drove all the way in, hitting the back wall, and paused, holding Jude’s gaze.
Foster remained still a few seconds as Jude writhed a bit, getting the angle just right so he could relax. He nodded, silent, signaling he was ready. Foster didn’t need more than that. He always paid such close attention to Jude’s needs, ready to do whatever was needed.
That was extending outside the bedroom, too.
Jude had never had a lover so intent on fulfilling his needs. He only hoped he could give as much as he got. Foster didn’t deserve a one-sided relationship. It was going to take a lot of hard work on his part.
Foster was worth the effort.
Jude laid his legs on Foster’s shoulders, relaxing against the thick impalement he was getting. When the head of his cock popped past his second hole, Jude moaned, the pleasure causing his thighs to shake. Foster worked his hips slow and steady, building the friction between them until slow and steady wasn’t enough.
Their bodies soon slammed together, the slap of skin on skin echoing around the room. Jude’s and Foster’s moans added to the cacophony, the volume growing with their pleasure. Each stroke hit Jude just right, a caress against his p-spot that he couldn’t seem to get when he rode on top. Whatever it was—the angle, the firmness against his back, or the perfect position—he could only seem to feel itunderFoster.
A position of vulnerability he struggled to be in. One he’d give no other man.
Jude stared up at Foster, this amazing man who seemed so willing to give and hoped it all wasn’t smoke and mirrors. He wanted to trust. The only way he could was to put faith in Foster and pray it wasn’t a mistake.
He’d made enough mistakes in his life and would make plenty more—but this man—Jude wasn’t sure he could handle it being one.
Foster met his stare, his eyes dark with lust. Full of love, too. He’d seen it in Foster’s gaze, the wagging of his tail at his mention of love. Maybe one day he could say it, but for now, all he could do was find ways to show it.
Jude lifted his head, and Foster lowered his seconds later, their lips meeting in the middle. The kiss was full of need and unsaid emotions—and it drove him closer to the edge. Jude’s body tensed. He ripped his lips from Foster’s to gasp. Foster pressed his forehead to Jude’s, gripping tight.
The orgasm slammed into Jude, knocking the air from his lungs. His body shattered—as did a little more of the wall surrounding his heart. Foster clung to him, still driving deep as Jude trembled around him and howled with delight. Foster followed him, erupting deep inside Jude, the throbbing feel extending the pleasure.
Jude went to heaven, and before falling back to earth, he collapsed against the bed, gazing up at the man who’d finally won his heart.
Foster watched him closely, dropping little kisses on his lips for a few seconds until freeing his legs and body. After it wasover and they’d cleaned up a bit, Foster laid his head on Jude’s shoulder. Their limbs entwined among the twisted sheets and the quiet of the night. Jude was sated in a way he’d never experienced.
It wasn’t just his body, but his soul.
He twisted his fingers through Foster’s soft hair, enjoying the silky feel of it. His lids fell closed, exhaustion taking over. Jude sank into the inky void of sleep, at peace again.
Foster lay listeningto Jude’s heart slowing, their lovemaking leaving them both winded and boneless. When the pounding quieted to a normal rhythm, Foster peeked up at Jude and saw he was about to drift off.
“I love you,” Foster whispered.
“I love you, too,” Jude whispered back.
Foster lifted onto one arm, searching in the dim light, but it appeared Jude was gone. Had he even realized he’d said it?
Possibly not.
And if Foster asked—which he wouldn’t—he’d likely deny it. He smiled, willing to keep it a secret for himself.
Jude loved him.
He’d known it, even when the crazed, panicked look had risen.
