Page 28 of Oz (Finding Home #1)

He lifts my hand and spits into my palm.

“Wank us together,” he orders me and reaches for a small bag on the table by the chair.

I obey him instantly, fumbling to align his cock with mine.

I’m narrow and long, but he dwarfs me with the thickness of his.

Veins marble the surface and the head is slick and angry looking.

I twist my wrist and thrust my cock alongside his, and his hand clutches into a claw on the bag as he throws his head back and shouts out. “Yes,” he hisses and starts to move his own hips. Within seconds, we’re moving together as if synchronised. As if we did this for an Olympic sport.

I moan and close my eyes, the visual of our two cocks rubbing together too insanely hot. If I look too long, I’ll come. Instead, I focus on the silky feel of his flesh against mine, the heat and hardness of his cock, and the tart scent of his pre-come and sweat.

I hear the rustle of the bag and the pop of a cap and jump when I feel cool fingers at my hole.

“Lift up,” he says gutturally. Abandoning our cocks, I open my eyes and stare into his.

They’re almost black, the pupil expanding to cover the pretty colour.

For a second we just hang there panting and looking, and then letting our cocks go, I lift my hands to his wide shoulders and use them to move upwards so he can get at my arse.

“Yes,” he says hoarsely. “Just like that. You’re so fucking good.”

I feel the praise heat me inside and cry out as he taps against my hole, massaging it with a slick finger before pushing it gently and steadily into me.

It burns for a second but I relax into it, loving that first feeling of being breached and knowing what’s to come and that somehow, it’s going to be better with him than anyone else.

“God yes, Silas,” I groan. “More. Give me another.”

He pushes another finger into me, moving steadily, and when he taps my gland I cry out and my hips move involuntarily.

“Look at you,” he mutters. “Riding my hand. Fuck, you’re so sexy.

” He opens me steadily and pushes another finger in, the digits rubbing continuously over my prostate heating me up.

I feel sweat run down my body and moan as he licks it up, his tongue warm and abrasive.

He gives a satisfied grunt. “I want to see you ride my cock like this.”

I open my eyes to look down at him blearily. Sweat runs down my brow and my dick is throbbing like a toothache. I give a great shudder. “Yes.”

He nods, looking just as wrecked as me. “Stand up, sweetheart,” he grunts. “Let me get the condom on.”

I rise up slightly and watch as he opens the packet, his fingers looking huge on the shiny golden square. I shiver as he reaches behind me and I hear the snap as he rolls it on and settles it. Then one hand is on my hip.

“Slowly,” he says, and I lower myself down onto his cock that he has steadied for me with his other hand.

I feel his cock tap my hole and wait as he readies me.

Once he grunts an assent I lower myself, taking the tip inside me.

I pause for a second and then breathe out as I continue to lower myself slowly.

As soon as he can, he releases his cock and switches his grasp to my hips.

“Take it easy,” he says, and while his voice is even, he’s given away by the quick rise and fall of his chest and the way his hands flex on my hips as if he’s forcibly stopping himself from forcing me down on his dick. His eyes are dark and riveted between my legs and my stiff cock bobbing.

“It’s intense,” I slur. “You feel so big.” I give a wild cry as he bottoms out, and I grab his shoulders, digging my nails in. I can feel the burn in my thighs as I crouch over him, as well as the shaking of my legs.

“Are you alright, darling?”

I nod frantically, squeezing my eyes shut. “You feel fucking amazing, but give me a second. This position is deep.”

His hips stay still, letting me sit in his lap, but his hands move, caressing my chest and tweaking my nipples, before tugging gently in my hair and pulling my head towards him for a deep kiss.

Our lips rub and suck and still his hand moves, flirting over my shoulders.

Light brushes of touch that feel almost burning hot on my sweat-slick skin.

They move down my back and we both groan as he runs his fingers under my arse and touches my hole.

“You’re stuffed full of my cock,” he mutters, and the deep, satisfied rasp in his voice makes me shudder.

I can feel his cock throbbing inside me, rubbing slightly with the rhythm of our breaths and the faint thrust of our hips that seems to have happened almost without us knowing. It makes heat bloom in me.

Lust suddenly fills me like a grenade going off and I grab his head and kiss him roughly, feeling his lips catch and the faint taste of copper on my tongue. I pull away. “You need to fuck me,” I groan. “I won’t last long.”

He throws his head back and I watch as the muscles on his stomach tense and bunch as he lowers his hips so he almost comes out, and then without any warning, he thrusts up and tunnels back in abruptly. Heat bursts inside me like little fireworks going off and I shout out, my head falling back.

Then, as if timed, we both lose it. He pushes up inside me, grunting heavily every time he bottoms out, while I crouch, feeling my legs shake with the strain as I paw at his body, rubbing his chest and nipples and feeling his hairy thighs against my arse.

As if sensing my legs are going to give way, he grabs my hips and lowers me down onto him so I sit stuffed with his cock.

Kissing me furiously and licking into my mouth, he pulls at my knees until I set them into the chair on either side of his hips.

I groan. Now, he’s really deep. I couldn’t have done this earlier, but I’m loose enough now to take him and I feel my hips start to move, almost out of my control.

I move up and down, kissing him frantically and feeling his hands come down to my bum. He grabs both of my arse cheeks, squeezing them hard, lifting me and thrusting into me from underneath. I can feel the muscles in his arms shifting and bunching and I pull back enough to watch his torso move.

Sweat drips from me to him and he takes my mouth again, his hands on my arse tightening almost painfully. His cock shuttles in and out of my hole, catching on the rim, and he begins a series of short, battering thrusts that graze my prostate and make sparks dance in front of my eyes.

My cock bobs between us, rock hard with pre-come sliding steadily down it, and I lower my hand.

“Yes,” he grunts. “I’m nearly there. Do it. I want your come all over me. Squeeze that hole for me.”

I grunt and rub down in tight circles and he shouts out. His hands squeeze tight as he forces himself upwards, losing his rhythm as he gets close, and the knowledge sears through me as I jerk myself furiously, feeling myself getting close.

“Silas,” I shout, and he gives a deep guttural groan, his hips stuttering as he goes deep once, twice, and three times. The knowledge that he’s coming acts like a match and I rut down furiously. He bats my hand away from my cock, flicking it as he does, and the slight pain sets me off.

I lean back, bracing my hands on his thighs, pistoning on his dick as he jacks me.

His eyes are riveted between my legs and the glaze in them makes the heat burst. I cry out and watch through slitted eyes as he angles my cock so that my spunk pumps all over his stomach and chest, droplets glistening in the hair.

Then I collapse back on him and we both sit, slumped and covered with come and sweat. After a few minutes he levers me up, holding onto the edge of the condom, and I clutch at him, muttering an obscenity. He laughs.

“I’m just going to get a towel, Pika,” he says, his voice sex-deep and hoarse. “Let me take care of you.”

He ties the condom off and chucks it into a rubbish basket and then I gasp as he lifts me up and walks me over to the bed.

I cling for a second as he lowers me, and he chuckles as he drops me with a bounce.

I watch as he moves towards a door which I presume is a bathroom.

The moonlight limns his body, highlighting the wide shoulders and long legs and his full, tight arse.

I shudder and look around the room, trying to concentrate on that and not how my body is thrumming with a bone-deep satisfaction that I can feel to my toes. I’ve never felt like this before. Wrung out and utterly replete.

He returns, padding across the floorboards, and I lay back into the mattress, moving my body languidly as he directs me. He cleans me with a single-minded focus and gentle hands. When he’s finished, he tosses the towel towards the bathroom and slides into bed.

“I should go,” I say slowly, suddenly aware that I’m lounging in his bed like I own the fucking thing. Any minute now he’s going to roll over and direct me to the spare room the way James did, claiming that I was too fidgety to sleep with.

I open my eyes as a sudden breeze blows around the room, ruffling the bed curtains. I sniff. “Can you smell something sweet? It’s like pipe tobacco and leather.”

He pulls me towards him. “That’s Lionel.”

I jerk. “Really?” I pause. “Oh my God, I smelt that in my room when I was–” I come to a stop and he immediately looks interested.

“Oh, do go on. This sounds interesting.”

I prod him. “I was using my dildo, okay?”

He looks like he’s had a revelation. “Was that the night I heard you shout my name?”

“Shut up.”

He laughs. “No, really. Give me the full details. I love a good bedtime story.” He pauses. “Only be really, really meticulous with the details.”

I shake my head, looking around the room warily, half expecting a drunken peeping tom ghost to step out. “Has that dirty old git been here all the time?”

He snorts. “Probably. And now he wants you to sleep in here with me.”

“Oh, he does, does he?” I say wryly. “Does Lionel also want me to cook breakfast in the morning and wash your clothes because his needs seem to coincide with yours?”

He laughs. “We’re kin, Oz. It’s inevitable.” He sighs heavily and manoeuvres me onto my side. He throws his arm over me and snuggles up to me. “For the record, Lionel wants bacon and eggs in the morning with orange juice.”

“You and Lionel will get a cold shoulder and a sharp tongue,” I say, using my mum’s old saying and hearing the Irish brogue in my voice.

“I’ll take anything you want to give,” he says sleepily, his voice deep and warm in the dim room.

Within minutes he’s asleep, and I lie for a few minutes, feeling the scratchiness of his chest hair rubbing down my back. His leg is pushed between my own and I send my toes exploratively down his shin, then I wriggle, feeling his cock and balls damp and soft against my bum.

“I’ll never fall asleep like this,” I whisper. “I can’t sleep with anyone. I’ll go in a minute.” I smell the tobacco and leather on the air again, mingling with the brine of the sea, and with the suddenness of a child I slip into the peaceful darkness of sleep as if someone has pressed a button.