He buried his face in Thorne’s shoulder to hide the tears in his eyes.
“Harder,” he whispered, hoping Thorne would think his voice was rough because of lust not sadness.
Thorne fucked him harder, faster. “Thorne, please!” He needed to come because Thorne inside him felt so good he couldn’t stand it. He was literally crying for more.
“Dash! Oh God. This is so good. So fucking good. I don’t want to stop. Don’t want this to end but—”
He brushed Dash’s prostate and Dash cried out, bucking against Thorne, desperate to come, but needing just a little more to go over. He reached between their bodies so he could jack himself off, and Thorne sat back, drawing Dash’s legs over his shoulders. Thorne pushed his hand away and jacked his cock for him, holding him tight, moving his hand fast and twisting it over the top. Dash bucked, squirmed, struggled, needing more. And then suddenly he was there. Hot cum shooting from his cock, splashing all the way to his neck. It was truly a release that seemed to drain him of everything. Tension leached from his body, and he collapsed, no longer aware of anything but Thorne’s harsh, quick breaths. Had he come too?
Thorne pulled out, still hard. Maybe he hadn’t. He rolled the condom off his dick. “I want to come on you.”
Dash sucked in his breath, not sure why that was so fucking hot. “Please.”
Thorne rose over him and gripped his cock. Dash shifted so his arms were over his head. He couldn’t take his eyes off Thorne’s hand. Dash felt his own cock twitch as Thorne’s cock grew redder, his balls high and tight. He was so close. So ready.
“Cover me in cum, Thorne. I want to fucking bathe in it.”
“Fuck!” Thorne came then, thick ropes of spunk joining Dash’s own on his chest and abdomen.
When Thorne finished, he remained still, hanging over Dash, eyes closed, head bowed. “That was…”
Dash ran his hand over his sticky torso and held it up to Thorne. Thorne sucked each finger one by one. Then he lapped at Dash’s palm. “So good. Almost enough to make me ready again.”
Dash’s cock was all for that, but he didn’t say it, because his need was as painful as it was pleasurable. “We should take a break.”
“Yeah, I guess so.” Thorne rolled onto his back, and they both stared at the ceiling. Dash longed to know what Thorne was thinking. If only his thoughts were the same as Dash’s. That they belonged together.
THORNE WOKE TO the smell of pancakes and coffee and the clatter of pans in the kitchen. He rolled over and smiled as his muscles twinged from the previous evening’s exertions. As he kicked off the covers, he glanced at the time. Dash would go soon. After the intensity of what he’d felt the night before, he couldn’t let Dash leave without making him an offer. Dash wasn’t taking any more clients if Thorne could prevent it.
He pulled on his robe and wandered to the bathroom where he relieved himself and brushed his teeth so Dash would enjoy the first kiss of the day. He looked in the mirror. Too little sleep and too much fucking made every one of his years visible in the early morning light. Maybe a shower first?
“Thorne, are you up?” Dash called.
“Yes.”
“Good. I’m making pancakes; come tell me what kind you want.”
Thorne’s heart pounded. “I’ll be there in a second.”
Walk out that door and ask him.
Thorne walked out the door. Dash stood in the kitchen in boxer-briefs and an apron, his hair standing up, flour on his face. He looked young, painfully young, and happy and energetic. I can always ask him after breakfast.
Thorne poured himself a cup of coffee, took a few sips, wrapped his arms around Dash from behind and checked out the batter he was stirring.
“Mmm. Good morning,” Dash said, turning to give Thorne a light kiss.
“Yes, I think it will be.” Holding Dash like this, things felt right again. They were no different than they’d been last night, when they were so close, so connected. Maybe Dash would say yes.
“I can make banana, blueberry, chocolate chip, or plain. What do you want?”
“Wow, I haven’t had chocolate chip pancakes since…I don’t know…college.”
Dash shook his head. “That’s a crime. You’re going to have some right now.”
He reached into a canvas market bag on the counter and pulled out a bag of chips. Thorne watched, arms still around him, as he opened them and poured them into a dish, which he set next to the stove.
“Do you want to learn the art of pancake making?” Dash asked.
“No, I just can’t stop touching you.” Thorne moved in closer, nuzzling Dash’s neck and breathing deeply of his scent.
Dash slapped playfully at his hands. “Watch if you want, but no way in hell can I concentrate with you so close.”