From Cleaving 7. And not at all safe for work.
“Oh fuck,” Zach whispered. And as much as he’d been feeling like he did when they first got together —when every touch was new and awkwardly thrilling and every shy glance made his heart race — this didn’t feel like that at all. This was not a Chris who was fumbling after a long hiatus from men… a Chris who was just learning what Zach liked, how to make him weak and desperate. This Chris knew all that, and was putting it to such profoundly effective use at this very moment that Zach had to thread his fingers through Chris’ hair and force his head back, gasping as he watched his cock slip from Chris’ lips and those achingly blue eyes turn up to him in silent question.
He panted a few breaths before whispering, “I’m not going to last if you keep that up. And I want to spend all night with you.”
Chris grinned and kissed Zach’s hip…and then his stomach, his chest, rising until he was could kiss Zach’s mouth and along his jaw to his ear, warm chest pressed against Zach’s.
“I want you to spend all night with me, too. I’ve been thinking about it for weeks.” Chris nipped at his neck right over his pulse, and Zach’s head fell back against the door again, because fuck. “Seems the best way to make that happen is to ensure you’re nice and relaxed when you start to take me apart.”
Jesus fucking Christ.
Zach knew he should protest — something about fairness and being a generous lover — but for the life of him, he could not form the words. And then Chris’ mouth moved against his skin again, and whatever tenuous hold Zach still had on language or thought was utterly shattered.
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