Page 14 of Egg Me On (Front Range Motorcycle Collective #1)
I reached for a condom with my free hand, tearing the packet open with my teeth. My hands trembled as I rolled it onto my aching cock, slicking myself with more lube.
Aiden pulled away and rolled onto his back. He spread his legs wide, knees drawn up to expose himself to me. "Want to see you," he explained, eyes burning with intensity. "Want to watch your face the first time you fuck me."
Christ. My cock twitched at his words, at the sight of him spread out before me like a feast. I grabbed a spare t-shirt from my bag, rolling it up and shoving it beneath his hips to lift him to the right angle.
Desperation warred with the intense need to take care of him—the same need that had driven me to buy protective gear, to fix his car, and in the end, care won, and I took my time, making sure he was comfortable.
I crawled between his legs, bracing myself on one arm above him. With my free hand, I guided the head of my cock to his slick entrance, rubbing against him teasingly. His hands clutched at my shoulders, nails digging into my skin as he whimpered, actually fucking whimpered, with need.
"Please," he begged, eyes locked on mine, pupils so dilated they nearly swallowed the color. "Need you inside me."
I pressed forward slightly, watching his face for any sign of discomfort.
The tight ring of muscle resisted momentarily, then gave way, allowing just the head of my cock to breach him.
We both gasped—me at the incredible tight heat, at the visual of my cock disappearing inside his hole as his own cock lay hard and leaking against his flat stomach.
He let out a soft sound—pain and pleasure combining, his eyes wide with wonder.
And like this, maybe I didn’t need to worry about talking at all.
Our connection was intimate, primal, and real.
I found myself wanting to touch and taste his cock, wanting to make him come with my hand wrapped around him.
A dark, familiar voice crept in, chastising me for wanting it, for letting myself be different. But this time, I pushed it away. Nothing this good could possibly be wrong.
I inched forward, sinking into Aiden's tight heat with excruciating slowness.
Every nerve ending in my body screamed for me to thrust hard, to bury myself to the hilt, but I held back, watching his face for any sign of pain.
His eyes were half-closed, lips parted, breath coming in short gasps that matched my own.
When I finally bottomed out, fully seated inside him, the sensation nearly undid me—hot, tight perfection gripping my cock like nothing I'd ever felt before.
I stayed like that, my cock impaling his body as I crashed my lips against his, trying to pour everything I was feeling into a wildly desperate kiss. He arched up, threading his fingers through my hair as he devoured my tongue, moaning against my mouth. And gently, I started to rock inside him.
Aiden's eyes fluttered open, his gaze locking with mine. That familiar smirk played at the corners of his mouth—the one that had been driving me crazy for weeks.
"You’re really big,” he whimpered, and I stiffened, worried I was hurting him.
He soothed a hand down my back. “In the best possible way. It feels so good, Cash, like you’re filling all of me.
Like I don’t know where you end and I begin," he whispered, voice wrecked.
His legs wrapped around my waist, pulling me impossibly deeper.
"Fuck me hard, Cash. I want you to wreck me, to make me feel you tomorrow. "
Something snapped inside me at his words—the last thread of control I'd been clinging to.
I drew back slowly, then slammed forward, driving into him with a force that made the tent's walls shudder.
Aiden arched beneath me, a broken cry tearing from his throat, his fingers digging into my biceps hard enough to leave marks.
"Yes," he hissed, meeting my thrusts with an upward roll of his hips that made stars explode behind my eyelids. "Just like that. Don't stop."
I fucked into him with abandon, all my earlier hesitation evaporating in the heat between us.
Each thrust drove me deeper, my balls slapping against his ass, the obscene sounds of our bodies joining, filling the tent.
The sleeping bags bunched beneath us, my knees digging into the thin barrier between us and the hard ground, but I didn't care.
Nothing mattered but Aiden—the tight clutch of his body around my cock, the broken moans falling from his lips, the way his fingers scrabbled for purchase on my sweat-slicked back.
Our lips found each other in another messy, desperate kiss—all tongue and teeth and shared breath.
I devoured him, claiming his mouth with the same intensity I claimed his body.
He tasted like beer and desire and something uniquely him that I couldn't get enough of.
My tongue traced the seam of his lips, demanding entry that he eagerly granted.
The angle pushed me deeper inside him, and he whimpered into my mouth, the sound vibrating through both our bodies.
"So good," he gasped against my lips. "So fucking good."
I drove into him harder, angling my hips on instinct, searching for that spot that had made him cry out earlier.
When I found it, his whole body jolted, back arching off the sleeping bag, a strangled moan ripping from his throat, and his fingers dug into my back, as if he could haul me closer, deeper.
"There," he panted, eyes wild. "Right there. Don't stop."
I pounded against that spot relentlessly, watching his face twist with almost unbearable pleasure. His cock bounced between us with each thrust, angry red and leaking onto his stomach. Aiden reached down, wrapping his fingers around himself, stroking in time with my thrusts.
"No," I growled, surprising myself as I grabbed his wrist, pinning it beside his head. "Mine." Were those the first words I’d spoken all night? I wasn’t sure.
His eyes widened, pupils blown black with lust, as I wrapped my own hand around his cock.
The feel of him—hot, hard, silky skin over rigid steel—sent a fresh wave of arousal crashing through me.
This should have felt strange, foreign. Instead, it felt right, natural, like I'd been meant to touch him this way all along.
"Cash," he whimpered, hips bucking up into my hand, his body shaking beneath me as he lost control, writhing wildly against each thrust, his hands searching for purchase on my back, my ass, and finally the floor of the tent. "Please. Oh god, I’m going to come. You fuck me so good."
I stroked him in time with my thrusts, my grip firm but not too tight, my thumb swiping over the sensitive head on each upstroke. Pre-cum leaked from his slit, slicking my movements. The dual sensations—his cock in my hand, my cock in his ass—was driving me toward the edge faster than I wanted.
Aiden writhed beneath me, caught between my hand and my cock, completely at my mercy. The power of it, the raw intimacy, was intoxicating. I'd never felt this connected during sex, never been so aware of my partner's every reaction, every breath, every flutter of eyelashes.
"Going to come," he gasped, body tensing beneath me. "Cash, I'm—"
I met his eyes and increased the pace, needing to watch him experience this intense pleasure, to feel his body around me as he came.
His body bowed off the sleeping bag, muscles going rigid as his orgasm crashed through him.
Hot pulses of cum spilled over my fingers, striping his stomach and chest. His ass clenched around my cock in rhythmic waves, so tight it was almost painful.
The sight of him—completely undone beneath me, my name on his lips as he came—pushed me over the edge.
My orgasm hit like a fucking freight train, pleasure slamming into me with brutal force.
I buried my face against Aiden's shoulder to muffle my groan as I emptied myself into the condom, hips stuttering against his ass.
Wave after wave of ecstasy washed through me, more intense than anything I'd ever experienced.
I bit down on the slope where his neck met his shoulder, marking him without conscious thought.
As the aftershocks subsided, I became aware of Aiden's arms wrapped around me, his heart pounding against my chest, his breath warm against my hair.
We fit together perfectly, like we had on the motorcycle—two bodies moving as one, finding a natural rhythm that couldn't be taught or learned, only discovered.
I kissed him softly, a stark contrast to the frantic coupling of moments before.
His lips yielded beneath mine, gentle and pliant.
When I finally pulled out, he winced slightly, making me instantly concerned.
I reached between us and tenderly stroked his hole, swollen from my violent fucking.
I backed up, removing the condom and tying it off, rooting in my bags for some kind of salve.
He shook his head, a satisfied smile spreading across his face. "I’m okay, baby. Don’t look so worried. I think that was the best fuck of my life. "
I rummaged through my bag for a packet of face and body wipes I kept for cleaning up while camping. With tender care, I cleaned the mess from his stomach and chest, then between his legs. The intimacy of the act—more intimate, somehow, than the sex itself—made something warm unfurl in my chest.
When I'd finished and tossed the trash in a bag, Aiden reached for me, pulling me down beside him on top of the air mattress.
Without hesitation, I gathered him against my chest, one arm wrapped around his waist, his head tucked beneath my chin.
He fit against me like he belonged there, his back to my front, my knees tucked behind his.
He shivered, and I straightened the tangled mess of air mattresses around us.
"Mmm, thank you for that. I’ve been wanting you for so long,” he murmured sleepily.
I buried my nose in his hair, inhaling the scent of him—sweat and sex and something citrusy from his shampoo.
Outside our tent, I could hear the distant sounds of the campfire gathering—laughter, conversation, the occasional clink of bottles, and I wondered how much of his shouts everyone had heard.
But I couldn’t bring myself to care. Maybe I liked that they knew he was mine.
Terror and elation battled within me as I held him.
I'd just crossed a line I'd never imagined crossing, done things I'd never thought I'd want to do.
I didn't know what my next move should be—whether to retreat behind familiar walls or lean into this terrifying new reality.
All I knew was that right now, with Aiden's warm body pressed against mine, his heartbeat slowing to match my own, I didn't want to be anywhere else.
"What are you thinking?" he asked softly, his fingers lacing with mine where they rested on his stomach. I wished I could tell him, but the words didn’t come, never came when it mattered. So I just hauled him close and kissed the side of his neck.