Think about that .”
He did, staring deep into those rich, earthy wells filled with emotion and heat. For him. Knowing he created that kind of longing in his lover, made Wyatt’s chest feel swollen with a different kind of pleasure. He wasn’t stupid. He recognized that it meant something. He just wasn’t prepared to examine it with his cock buried in another man’s ass.
Yet he was unable to close his eyes away from it. So his gaze held. Then it cherished every line and passion-softened curve. Then he kissed those planes and valleys, the eyes that spoke nuances that words didn’t have and the lips that parted on a sound of pleasure. His chest stayed full and his cock needed more than the slow pace he’d established.
Wyatt pressed another soft kiss to Oak’s lips, and hooked his other leg, pressing the man’s back to the wall for support. The new position opened Oak’s hole to him without obstruction. Wyatt took him then, pounding his ass unapologetically.
Oak’s brows drew together in the middle. His hardening cock lolled against his belly.
“Jack yourself,” Wyatt insisted.
Oak rubbed firmly over his own cock, cupped his balls. Wyatt watched him get harder, hard enough for Oak to wrap his fist around himself and tug.
“Open your mouth,” Wyatt commanded.
He did as he was asked. Wyatt licked the inside of his upper lips, looked into the moist well, felt Oak’s fist occasionally bump his belly while he pumped himself, and Wyatt grunted as the first swell of orgasm raced up his cock. Cum immediately followed, letting loose the coil of lust that had been building in his balls until wave after wave hit him in sharp, shooting spurts.
After a minute he let Oak stand. The man’s cock flopped drunkenly, half filled, half flaccid. Wyatt cupped a hand over it. “We’ll take care of that.”
“You aren’t leaving now?” Oak asked cautiously.
“I wasn’t planning to. Unless you want me to leave.”
“No. I want you to stay.”
Wyatt slipped his arms around Oak and took his time kissing those beautiful lips.
It was Oak who pulled back first. “I’m not complaining, but I need to know if this is a one-off for you.”
“I thought it didn’t matter.”
“It doesn’t.”
Wyatt tilted his head as he scanned his face. He’d been a cop too long to not be able to read expressions and know Oak was hiding something. “It matters to you,” he countered gently.
Oak’s smile was bright and false. “Only because I want to know what I’m getting into.”
“Don’t hide from me. Don’t ever hide from me. You’ve never doubted you could trust me before. Did sex change that?”
“No.”
“This was more than sex,” Wyatt deduced.
“I can separate the two like any guy who needs to get laid,” he quipped.
“Maybe, but you didn’t, did you?”
“You aren’t supposed to be thinking about it.” Oak moved away toward the stairs after picking up his discarded gun. “I’m going to put this away.” He glanced back at Wyatt. “Whether or not you come upstairs is up to you. I won’t judge your decision either way. I promised one night would be enough. I won’t go back on my word.”
“Your word was given before either of us had a chance to figure this out,” Wyatt said.
“It doesn’t change anything.”
“Yes, it does. You’ve made it clear that you have feelings for me. Before, you were offering—however unwisely—a fuck. Maybe a crush-fuck, but a fuck. But there’s more to it than that, isn’t there?” Wyatt asked.
Oak leaned against the wall of the stair well. “There’s more,” he admitted roughly.
Peterman took a step toward him. “And that more comes with a responsibility I don’t want.”
Oak’s eyes looked troubled, loaded with questions fighting to be asked that couldn’t find voice.
Peterman tried to explain. “A fuck is a fuck. Fucking a man who wants more, and knowing he wants more, leads him to believe there’s a chance when I’m not sure there is.”
Oak nodded. Bitterness
He did, staring deep into those rich, earthy wells filled with emotion and heat. For him. Knowing he created that kind of longing in his lover, made Wyatt’s chest feel swollen with a different kind of pleasure. He wasn’t stupid. He recognized that it meant something. He just wasn’t prepared to examine it with his cock buried in another man’s ass.
Yet he was unable to close his eyes away from it. So his gaze held. Then it cherished every line and passion-softened curve. Then he kissed those planes and valleys, the eyes that spoke nuances that words didn’t have and the lips that parted on a sound of pleasure. His chest stayed full and his cock needed more than the slow pace he’d established.
Wyatt pressed another soft kiss to Oak’s lips, and hooked his other leg, pressing the man’s back to the wall for support. The new position opened Oak’s hole to him without obstruction. Wyatt took him then, pounding his ass unapologetically.
Oak’s brows drew together in the middle. His hardening cock lolled against his belly.
“Jack yourself,” Wyatt insisted.
Oak rubbed firmly over his own cock, cupped his balls. Wyatt watched him get harder, hard enough for Oak to wrap his fist around himself and tug.
“Open your mouth,” Wyatt commanded.
He did as he was asked. Wyatt licked the inside of his upper lips, looked into the moist well, felt Oak’s fist occasionally bump his belly while he pumped himself, and Wyatt grunted as the first swell of orgasm raced up his cock. Cum immediately followed, letting loose the coil of lust that had been building in his balls until wave after wave hit him in sharp, shooting spurts.
After a minute he let Oak stand. The man’s cock flopped drunkenly, half filled, half flaccid. Wyatt cupped a hand over it. “We’ll take care of that.”
“You aren’t leaving now?” Oak asked cautiously.
“I wasn’t planning to. Unless you want me to leave.”
“No. I want you to stay.”
Wyatt slipped his arms around Oak and took his time kissing those beautiful lips.
It was Oak who pulled back first. “I’m not complaining, but I need to know if this is a one-off for you.”
“I thought it didn’t matter.”
“It doesn’t.”
Wyatt tilted his head as he scanned his face. He’d been a cop too long to not be able to read expressions and know Oak was hiding something. “It matters to you,” he countered gently.
Oak’s smile was bright and false. “Only because I want to know what I’m getting into.”
“Don’t hide from me. Don’t ever hide from me. You’ve never doubted you could trust me before. Did sex change that?”
“No.”
“This was more than sex,” Wyatt deduced.
“I can separate the two like any guy who needs to get laid,” he quipped.
“Maybe, but you didn’t, did you?”
“You aren’t supposed to be thinking about it.” Oak moved away toward the stairs after picking up his discarded gun. “I’m going to put this away.” He glanced back at Wyatt. “Whether or not you come upstairs is up to you. I won’t judge your decision either way. I promised one night would be enough. I won’t go back on my word.”
“Your word was given before either of us had a chance to figure this out,” Wyatt said.
“It doesn’t change anything.”
“Yes, it does. You’ve made it clear that you have feelings for me. Before, you were offering—however unwisely—a fuck. Maybe a crush-fuck, but a fuck. But there’s more to it than that, isn’t there?” Wyatt asked.
Oak leaned against the wall of the stair well. “There’s more,” he admitted roughly.
Peterman took a step toward him. “And that more comes with a responsibility I don’t want.”
Oak’s eyes looked troubled, loaded with questions fighting to be asked that couldn’t find voice.
Peterman tried to explain. “A fuck is a fuck. Fucking a man who wants more, and knowing he wants more, leads him to believe there’s a chance when I’m not sure there is.”
Oak nodded. Bitterness
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