“Uh-huh. Please. Don’t stop, okay?”
“I won’t.” He wasn’t going to stop unless Ryder changed his mind, and that didn’t seem likely given how the cowboy’s whole body was flushed and ready for him. He pressed his fingers deeper and twisted them slowly.
“Please…” Ryder rocked down, trying to take more.
Needy boy.
He let Ryder drive a little, giving his lover more until his fingers were flush against that sweet ass. Then he pulled back and added a third finger, watching Ryder’s face and admiring that pretty grimace.
“I—damn, love. I feel that deep inside.” Ryder’s voice had gone husky, rough and raw.
“Fuck.” His patience was at an end. Charles pulled his fingers back and caught his aching cock in his fist. “I want you feeling me.”
“Yes. Fuck yes. Please.” Ryder tugged one leg up and out, spreading wide.
If that wasn’t consent, he didn’t know what was. He lined up, his prick twitching impatiently in his fist, and moved over Ryder and rocked his hips, breaching his cowboy nice and slow.
Maddeningly fucking slow.
Ryder’s lips parted, his eyes rolling back in his head. It was beautiful, the way need was painted on Ryder’s face.
Charles took a breath and continued with care, even though his balls were screaming at him. He needed to be sure Ryder was okay, that his lover was ready for more.
“Mister Charlie. Love.Please.”
That was what he had needed.
He blinked for just a second at the nickname and that lovely four-letter word, but he couldn’t focus on either. They were overshadowed for the moment by the word “please.” He gave in, hips pressing up against Ryder’s ass for just a second before his need took over. He wanted to say something in return, but everything came back to, “God, you feel so fucking good.”
“Yes!” Ryder bucked up, driving up toward him, taking his cock to the root.
He braced himself near Ryder’s head and let go, hips driving hard, taking what he needed. His thighs were tight, and his balls pulled up, and he shifted to wrap one hand around Ryder’s cock. He was too fucking close, Ryder needed to come along on this ride.
Ryder bared his teeth, his entire body gripping Charles’s cock like a fist, milking his prick.
Ryder was so beautiful, even more than usual, if that was possible. He tried to focus on Ryder—working the cowboy’s erection through his fingers, keeping up a steady pace—and not on his own orgasm, which was threatening to overwhelm him. “Fucking gorgeous, cowboy.”
“Close. So close. So close.” Ryder panted, lips parted, chest heaving.
“You, then me.” He wanted to feel Ryder’s orgasm around his cock. Then he’d let himself go.
“Uhn.”
Charles assumed that was a yes, because Ryder’s body clenched, and he shot, spunk pouring over Charles’s fingers.
Ryder was so pretty when he came, the cowboy’s expression somewhere between sweet agony and pure bliss. He looked down between them as his fingers slipped along Ryder’s length and groaned, then braced himself as his need took over, commanding the moment, sending him deeper and harder into his lover.
“Yes…” Ryder whispered. “I’m yours.”
“Mine,” he replied with a growl, right on the edge. He buried himself in Ryder as he shot, holding himself there and rocking gently through it until he could get a breath. He used it to whisper, “Mine,” then took a deep kiss because words weren’t easy or enough.
Ryder opened up to him, offering himself up, nice and easy.
His arms started to tremble as that deep, satisfied kind of exhaustion set in and he rolled off Ryder, sinking like a stone into the pillows. He started to protest the gentle fingers on his prick until he realized Ryder was once again dealing with the condom for him.
So sweet, how the cowboy took care of him.
Ryder cleaned him up, tucked him in, and then cuddled in next to him.