Page 60 of Finding Grey
Without releasing his mouth, I dragged myself closer to the side of the bed and rifled through the bedside table drawer for a condom and a tube of lubricant. Dante snatched them from my hands and sat up on his haunches.
“Turn over,” he demanded, a wild look in his eyes.
I got into position on my hands and knees, my pulse fluttering. This was all new to Dante. What if he didn’t like it?
A warm hand landed on my left buttock, covering the round globe. It slid up my spine and then back down between my cheeks before brushing over my hole. I moaned in pleasure, arching my back so my arse tilted up towards him. A soft curse met my ears, and the tube of lubricant opened with a faint click. A few moments later, Dante’s fingers touched me again, and this time they didn’t leave. He used the flat of a single finger to stroke my opening over and over, up and down. My arms trembled, and my breath came through parted lips. “How much time,” I managed between panting breaths, “have you spent researching gay sex?”
I could hear the smile in his voice when he replied. “What else did I have to do at night after I left your side? Now be quiet, I’m concentrating.”
His final words were lost beneath my groan as he sank one finger inside me. My arms gave out and I fell forward, thrusting back at him in search of more.
“You are the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen,” he whispered. Reaching between my legs, he cupped my balls in his other hand, squeezing gently before moving on to my straining cock. And all the while, two fingers—no, it was three now—continued to slide in and out of my hole, lighting every nerve ending on fire.
“Dante,” I moaned, writhing in front of him. “I need you.”
“Christ, yes.” Foil ripped. His fingers slid out of me, only to be replaced by the large head of his cock. He placed trembling hands on my lower back and I held still, desperate for penetration, but not wanting to rush him.
He pressed forward. I pushed back. But it wasn’t enough, he was hesitating. There was a low curse, and then the hands that had been so gentle against my back took hold of my hips. I moved against him in encouragement. “Do it, Dante,” I cried. “Fuck me, please.”
A guttural moan sounded as he thrust again, the head of his cock sinking deep inside me. My mouth fell open in a silent cry that was half pain and half ecstasy. Stretched tight around him, I shuddered and bucked, lost in the sensation of his body invading mine.
Dante’s grip on my hips had tightened, punishing in its intensity, but otherwise he didn’t move. “Sean?” His voice was uncertainty streaked with lust and I reached back to cover one of his hands with mine. My chest heaved, and my cock throbbed with the need for release.
“Keep going,” I rasped. “Feels so good.” The words had barely left my mouth when he began to move, sinking deeper with each thrust. And then he was pounding into me, our thighs slapping together with the force of each impact, our cries of pleasure mingling, growing louder.
At last, Dante began to shudder. Knowing he was close, I grabbed hold of my cock and started to pump.
With an almighty cry, he went rigid and his movements slowed to a series of powerful thrusts as he came deep inside me. The throbbing sensation triggered my climax and I shuddered through my own release.
Dante’s weight collapsed onto my back and I allowed my body to fall to the mattress, narrowly missing the sticky mess I’d made on the covers.
“Holy crap.” Dante’s face must have been turned into the pillow behind me, because his voice was muffled as he spoke. “I can’t believe I waited twenty-four years to do that.”
“Twenty-five years,” I said with a satisfied laugh as I looked back over my shoulder. “Happy birthday, Dante.”
Smiling, he wrapped his arms around my waist and kissed my cheek. “You always did give the best presents.”