“Yes. Please.”
Colby pushed forward slowly. The head of Colby’s cock felt so much bigger than the plug. An impossible amount of pressure. And Keats had a brief moment of panic that they wouldn’t be able to do this, that his body wouldn’t be able to accommodate Colby. But he breathed through it and stroked his own cock, focusing on relaxing and accepting the pleasure. The tight ring of muscle stretched and burned as Colby eased forward and before Keats could drag in another breath, his body gave way, taking Colby inside.
The taut, full feeling almost sent Keats into orgasm before Colby slid deep, but Keats squeezed the base of his cock and locked onto Colby’s gaze, determined to hold off for him.
Colby’s eyes closed, and the veins in his neck bulged as he seated himself fully inside Keats. It was the hottest damn thing Keats had ever seen—Colby overtaken with need. And he got the sense that he wouldn’t be the only one fighting back a too-quick orgasm.
“Fuck,” Colby groaned.
“That’s the idea.” Keats smiled.
Colby opened his eyes, his gaze holding playful warning.
“Sorry, sir.”
“Don’t be. If you can make jokes, then I must not be hurting you too much, which means I don’t have to hold back as much as I’m trying to.”
Keats shook his head. “Don’t hold back. I want everything, Colby. I know what my safe word is. Trust that I’ll use it if I need to.”
Something broke over Colby’s expression and he gave a nod. “I do trust you.”
And with that, there was no turning back. Colby rocked back and then sank deep again, continuing with long, slow thrusts that had Keats feeling as if every cell in his body were ready to split in half and re-form into something new.
Colby’s eyes never moved away from Keats’s face. Keats held on to that connection as his hand moved over his own cock in the same rhythm, and he welcomed Colby into every corner of himself.
Time seemed to stretch and lengthen, the room fading around them. It was just him and Colby and this intensity brewing between them. This was so much more than Keats had ever expected. And he knew without a doubt that he was where he was supposed to be. Everyone else be damned. Nothing wrong could feel this right.
Soon, sweat glazed them both, and slow and steady fell by the wayside. Keats’s hand was moving faster and faster and Colby was pistoning into him with tense need on his face, his damp hair curling at his temples. “You ready to come for me, Adam?”
“God, yes.”
“Then come.” Colby pushed on Keats’s thighs, opening him even wider, and sank impossibly deep, rubbing over that sensitive spot over and over again as he pulled back each time.
Every drop of blood in Keats seemed to race downward, and he exploded. His release jetted out over his hand, splashing his belly and chest as he groaned and grunted like a crazed animal.
Then Colby went over, his face contorting in pleasure and his cock pulsing inside Keats as another wave of sensation moved through Keats.
Colby had promised to send Keats flying, but he’d launched him into the fucking stratosphere instead.
When they both quieted, Keats reached out and wrapped his arms around Colby and pulled them both into a heap in the sheets. They were a mess. They were spent. It was perfect.
Keats glanced at the window. Well, almost.
—
After their night together and a long, hot shower, they both should’ve been exhausted. But Colby’s mind was whirling as he lay in the bed, Keats stretched out on his back next to him. And from Keats’s constant shifting of position, he could tell Keats was struggling to settle down, too.
“What are you worrying about over there?” Colby asked, keeping his eyes closed. “I can hear you thinking.”
Keats was quiet for a long minute. “Do you miss it being the three of us?”
Ah, that question. It could be a sticky one, but he wasn’t going to lie to Keats. “Are you asking if you’re enough?”
“No,” Keats said, moving onto his side to look at Colby. “It’s not about that—honestly. I was just wondering if you miss her.”
Did he miss Georgia? He missed both of them when they weren’t around. “I do.”
Keats’s eyes looked gray in the moonlight, pensive. “Do you think she’s doing what I was trying to do?”