Page 121 of Far From Sherwood Forest

Bending my knees, I plant my feet flat on the blankets and thrust up hard and fast. He cries out, cock throbbing in my hand and nails digging into my thighs.

“Are you sure about that? I think you can,” I tell him, my voice breathless and deep. I tighten my fist and stroke him a little faster. “I think youhaveto because you know I’m not going to stop until you do.”

“Henry, fuck,” he whimpers.

“That’s the idea.”

Pistoning my hips, I fuck up into him as more little whimpers and cries slip past his lips, more sweat drips down his bare chest, more precum leaks from his cock.

More, more, more.

That’s what I want. More of hiseverything. But, most of all, more of his pleasure.

Other than chasing him through the woods, it’s one of my favorite things to do to him—pushing the limits of his pleasure, wrenching more and more out of him until he’s sure he can’t take any more. Until he’s wrecked and trembling from the height of ecstasy.

He’s climbing toward it now, his entire body shaking, all those noises he’s making coming out choked as they scrape his throat on the way up.

“Come for me, Robin. Give me every last drop.”

“Oh, fuck. Henry. Henr—”

My name on his lips getting cut short is worth the intensity of his second orgasm.

A tremor shudders through him as his ass clenches around my cock, pulsing around me and setting off my own climax. As I pump my release deep inside him, he shoots ropes of cum onto my stomach. It’s not as much as he filled me with, but it’s enough for a taste. Letting go of his cock, I swipe a finger through it and bring it to my mouth while I’m still riding out the waves of my orgasm.

When I hold it out on my tongue, Robin dives down and sucks it off. As his tongue swoops deeper inside my mouth and we kiss with our last little bits of lingering ferocity, I roll us until we’re lying on our sides. My cock slips out of him, but he keeps one leg hooked over mine to keep that connection between the length of our bodies.

Our kiss slows, and his head falls back. Even as his lips leave mine, I keep kissing across his jaw and down the column of his throat, our chests heaving, rising and falling in sync.

“You know,” he says, still catching his breath, “if we were keeping count, I’d bet we’ve had sex more times outside than we have in an actual bed.”

I laugh into his neck before lifting my head to meet his gaze. “At this point, we should register at REI instead of a furniture store.”

Robin’s lips part, twitching at the corner. “Register?”

I swallow thickly and shrug. “Why not? Everyone else is getting married.”

“Is that your way of proposing?”

I wasn’t exactly planning on doing it tonight or this way, but it feels the furthest from wrong.

Reaching up, I brush a strand of sweaty hair off his forehead. “I plan on spending the rest of my life with you, Robin. If you want a ring, I’ll happily put one on your finger.”

Stars twinkle in his eyes, his smile just as bright. “I love you, Henry. I’ll spend the rest of my life with you any way you’ll have me.”

“I love you, little thief.”

I kiss him again before grabbing one of the blankets and pulling it over us. We stay facing each other as he presses closer.

“Should we retire that nickname?” he asks. “I’m not a thief anymore, you know.”

“You’ll always be my little thief.” I place my hand on the side of his neck and stare into his eyes that are a forest in the night. Like the ones I used to chase him through, the ones I’ll chase him through forever. “You stole my heart, Robin Hood.”