Page 109 of Beneath the Stain

Mackey’s stomach knotted tautly with muscle as he clenched and jacked his hips up so Trav could pound into him.

“Ah, God, yes!” Mackey muttered. “Needed this. Neededyou.”

Trav closed his eyes against Mackey’s fierceness, needing his own space, the basic selfishness of sex, to keep him from losing it, from rutting and claiming and howling like an animal.

He’d promised tenderness.

That thought slowed him down.

“Sh,” he whispered, dropping a kiss on Mackey’s forehead. “Sh. It’s okay. I’ll take care of you.”

“Faster?” Mackey begged, but his voice quavered.

“More,” Trav whispered back, moving strong and sure. Not faster. Not frenzied.

Mackey sighed and clenched, and Trav had to laugh helplessly as a wave of need, of almost-orgasm, washed over him. Mackey knew how to fight dirty.

“More,” Trav whispered again. He wasn’t going to be quick and forgettable. He wasn’t going to be a teenaged grope in the dark. They were men. Men made things right.

Slow. Slow. Dropping kisses on his closed eyes. Clenching Mackey’s hip to pull him tighter. Nuzzling his temple to calm him. Swallowing his moans of need.

“Augh! More!” Mackey demanded when Trav’s skin tingled icily, frozen with want. Trav shook hard with need and closed his eyes as his body took over.

“Yes!” Mackey hissed, triumph sounding in every sibilance. He dug his fingers into Trav’s biceps hard enough to hurt, but Trav liked it, liked the strength, the closeted violence. Mackey wasn’t weak. He wasn’t a toy. He was small and strong and he could survive anything. Sweetness in bed included.

“Yes!” Trav whispered back. “C’mon, Mackey, help me out.”

He pulled back for the better angle, relieved when Mackey fumbled for his own cock to give himself a hand.

“Nungh!God,Trav!”

Trav had no words. He needed. He took. It was the sum of who he was, and every breath, every frenzied smack of flesh, his on Mackey’s, Mackey’s on himself, made the need more and powerful and painful.

Heneeded!

His hips rocketed without his permission, and he wrapped his hands around Mackey’s shoulders, the better to contain him to make sure he stayedright therewhere Trav could fuck him, could keep him, could possess him inside and out.

“Augh!” The come-sound tore from Mackey’s throat, and Trav felt it spurting on their stomachs, hitting his chest as Mackey tilted his head back and ripped out that sound again.

His final clench around Trav’s cock did it, and Trav closed his eyes, the brutal onslaught of climax tumbling him in its wake.

Oh hell, he’d wanted slower, softer, sweeter—

“Now!” he hissed, then convulsed, so buried inside Mackey he lost himself, lost the core of who he was, all of him taken in by McKay James Sanders, never to return.

He couldn’t stop shaking, didn’t want to pull out. Mackey’s body was furnace hot, pulling at him even when he was spent, and Trav fell to his elbows, burying his face in the hollow of Mackey’s neck and shoulder.

To his surprise, Mackey stroked his hair with come-sticky fingers. “Sh,” he whispered. “Sh. S’okay, Trav. S’okay. We’re gonna be okay.”

Trav sob-laughed for a moment, still shaking. “Promise?” he asked, feeling pathetic, a thirty-five-year-old child in the arms of a man barely old enough to drink.

“Hope,” Mackey reassured him, nuzzling his ear.

Hope had brought Mackey to his room, had brought Travis to Mackey’s life.

“Strong enough,” Trav murmured, and he let Mackey’s body bear his weight and trusted that maybe he wouldn’t hurt Mackey Sanders like the rest of the world. And that if he did, even by accident, Mackey could take it.

HEGOTup eventually, came back with a washcloth, and wiped them both down. He was especially careful around Mackey’s backside, and Mackey grunted, then looked away.