Page 9 of Boyfriend on Parole: The Care of Broken Things Extended Epilogue (Breaking Free #2)

“Yes, I can see that,” Eli said, leaning in again, but it wasn’t to give him that mouth, only to press his thigh there, to push up against that place where the heat of his arousal burned with outrageous audacity. “How youthful.”

That should have dropped him into crippling embarrassment, but it was like his usual self was gone and the creature left behind unabashedly brazen. “I could suck you. With my mouth.”

That should have only made it worse, the words clunky and strange, clearly the work of a novice. But Eli didn’t laugh, actually, he seemed to darken, his eyes like burning coals. “Writing checks already, Fuller?”

He wanted it, burned for it. If they hadn’t been crowding him, he would have dropped to his knees to mouth at the zipper of those jeans.

Eli wasn’t quite as roused as he was, but he could fix that—was sure, suddenly, he could make the man feel all kinds of things.

But he wasn’t allowed to. With a push, Eli moved off him, palming the car’s keys as he circled to slide into the driver’s seat.

He gulped, the absence like a slap. He tried to follow but was caught up by another set of hands. “Come,” Nathaniel said, opening up the back. “I’ve got you. Here.”

It was a welcome distraction, his body more than willing to take the substitution as he fell into the car and the relative spaciousness of the backseat.

Nathaniel was right on his heels, or rather, in his lap, and then Samuel was realizing it, the danger of being horizontal, of taking that weight atop him, the full pressure of Nathaniel stretching over him, the skin of him burning to take it, to have it and to have him, groaning as Nathaniel pressed there, not just with his thigh, but the greater dexterity of his hand, taking hold of him through too-tight jeans.

“Big boy,” he breathed. “These look uncomfortable. Should we take them off?”

Was there any other answer? “ Please .” And he buried the word there, in Nathaniel’s mouth, in Nathaniel’s skin.

That laugh came again, more of Eli’s rumbling. “Trying to get us arrested again so soon?”

Nathaniel didn’t turn to it, never moving off his mouth even as he spoke. “Then find us a quieter place.”

The car rumbled to life beneath them. “Seatbelts on, then.”

It seemed an impossible request, and one he wouldn’t comply with, but Nathaniel was so smooth, so convincing, pulling him up as if it were only to get to his mouth, the betrayal coming as he heard the snick of the buckle.

He tried to push up even as the belt locked him in place. “Nat!”

“A short while. A short, short while,” Nathaniel said, still biting at his mouth, never leaving it.

“I want—”

“Here,” Nathaniel said, unsnapping the button of his jeans and sliding in to find the much thinner layer of his underwear beneath. “That’s a little better, isn’t it? But not much.”

It was like having all of him, or maybe it only felt that way to his touch-starved mind.

He almost finished, and Nathaniel hadn’t even done anything, just the pressure of that hand against him, the shape and heat of it through the thin material, and the mouth still on his.

He gasped, the sound of it wet and desperate. “ Nat .”

The second belt clicked, Nathaniel locking himself into place too, but still there for him, the belts allowing just enough leeway to keep them kissing, and of course that hand was still on him, was moving against him, even then slipping beneath the material to take hold of him bare.

Too much. As that hand formed up around him, taking hold around the shape of him, he shuddered, not even realizing it was over or how he pulsed there, only feeling the hot pleasure of it, the lightning stripe of white as the feeling took him.

He cried out, the sound only a little muffled by that mouth, except this time it brought a sound up from Nathaniel too, a groan whose reverberations went right into his chest, spiking with heat as he continued to pulse, gasping into that mouth as he pushed into that hand.

“Did he—?” Eli’s question seemed to come from both outside and inside at once.

He became aware of the car’s motion, the scenery of the road and the prison complex he hadn’t bothered enough to notice beginning to slide past.

Nathaniel pulled his hand free, the milky goo on his hands shocking evidence of the release.

“Let me borrow this,” the man said, grinning, and looking so gorgeous with that swollen mouth and hair falling free of his ponytail, a distraction that could only hold him for a moment, the real shock coming as Nathaniel popped open the button on his own pants, though reaching behind himself, not in front, to push his fingers in, that smile still in place.

The sound that left Samuel sounded like pain even to his own ears, the feeling in his chest that of a caged animal.

He grabbed at Nathaniel and was thwarted by the belt that drew suddenly tight.

He pushed out of the cross strap, leaving the bottom belt because of Eli’s bark of warning, and grabbed at Nathaniel to get at him, to pull, refusing to be apart, to not be touching.

He bit at him, at that mouth, pushing deeper inside than he really knew how to utilize.

He didn’t know what he was doing, and didn’t care, the need for it too urgent, a scraping sharpness as if Nathaniel had a tight hold of something deep in his gut and was tugging and tugging at it, a relentless pull that would swallow him down whole.

“Want to fuck me, Sam?” Nathaniel asked—the demand of a devil. “I’m ready for you. Eli made me ready for you. At the rest stop on the way here I had Eli follow me into the bathroom and push his fingers into me to make me ready just in case—"

The sound came out like a sob, so roused it was a hurt, like the turning of a knife, and Samuel knew only too well how that felt. “I did too. In the closet. After lights out, I went to the closet and used the oil you sent. I tried to do three fingers like you said.”

“Oh, Sam.”

“I only got in two. I couldn’t make three fit. I didn’t know how, but you can still—”

“I will. Oh, I will. I want you so badly. Sam, I want you so badly.”

He wanted it worse, sure it had to be worse—anymore and his heart would burst free of his chest. His cock was aching with it, as if the release hadn’t happened.

“We’ll take each other,” Nathaniel promised, gasping it to him between those desperate kisses.

“I’ll take you and you’ll take me. We’ll switch whenever either of us finishes, just filling each other up and up until we’re drowning in it.

I want you so badly inside me. My hole’s been clenching since last night, but now I want to push into you too.

Just push until I’m fully inside and fuck you into a mess.

What do I do? I want them both so bad, Sam. I want you so bad.”

He couldn’t breathe through the want of it, the desire such an urgent thing he couldn’t even wonder where the anxiety had gone. There was simply no space for it. Already he was hard again, his cock so swollen with blood it left the rest of him dizzy.

“Shut up, both of you,” Eli snarled. “I can barely see the road.”

“Pull over,” Nathaniel said.

“There’s no space for it. Not even a proper shoulder.”

“Pull over,” Nathaniel said again.

Eli pulled over, pulling up onto the grassy bank on the side of the road.

“Two minutes,” Eli said. “We can’t stay longer than that. No, don’t pull off your—”

But it was too late. Nathaniel was already out of his pants and climbing atop him, the click of the seatbelt the start signal Samuel’s body had been waiting for.

He surged up, all but inhaling Nathaniel into his lungs as he squashed him close, a desperate pressure, hands taking great handfuls of his ass, his thighs, his brain breaking over the feeling of bare skin even before that lovely cock pushed up against his stomach, leaving a wet smear as it went, the feeling so perfect he was forced to judder to a stop as he took it in.

Nathaniel, though, never stopped, throwing his shirt down without a care and taking hold of Samuel’s too, tugging at it until he lifted his arms and then that was tossed down as well—and skin, all that skin, the feeling of it, of Nathaniel’s chest to his, the tight buds of pale nipples dragging across his, and that cock—that cock.

He took hold of it before he thought to make his hand move, and fell for the man all over again, loving it, wanting only to drag it up to his mouth and not quite able to reach.

He could have hauled Nathaniel up by his hips, sure he was strong enough, but Nathaniel wouldn’t let him, busy at his work, moving already, practically ignoring him as he took a stiff hold on his erection, planting it there to make it stable—and then, the warning only a bare, ‘keep still,’ and Samuel’s cock was sinking, being swallowed, Nathaniel’s walls closing up around him.

He couldn’t name it, the feeling of that heat sealing down over him. It was tight, unbearably so, and for Nathaniel too. He could see it, the almost pain of it, certainly an overwhelming discomfort.

“Goddamn it, Than!” Eli had unbuckled himself and was reaching behind. “Just shoving it in, you’re going to—”

Nathaniel jerked away from the hand, the motion accidentally wrenching at the cock inside of him. “Fine,” he gasped out. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine. Samuel—”

“Just how long have I been taking your cock, Thompson? He’s not bigger than you. Don’t .”

Eli was half frozen, wanting to pull his husband free, but also afraid to make it worse. He hovered there, but even as he did, Nathaniel took in a gulping breath and said, calmer. “I can relax. I’m not tearing. I’m not bleeding.”

“Bleeding?” It was impossible to focus, Nathaniel still sinking, that heat closing, but that word did cut through. He remembered the flash of that old pain, that terrible fissure of lightning as he was split open. “No. Nat—Nat!”