“Don’t finish that thought,” Apollo ordered sternly. “Going bare isn’t something you need to get in the habit of doing on impulse.”
You’re so much more than an impulse. But, of course, Dylan didn’t say that. Hell, he tried not to think it because he knew how damn fleeting this thing was sure to be. “Sorry,” he said instead.
“Where’s that lotion?” Apollo pulled back to stare down at Dylan’s tipped-back face. “You’re not the only one who can get brainstorms.”
“Yeah?” Dylan searched around in the nightstand drawer until he came up with the small bottle. Apollo toppled them backward until they were on their sides, Apollo still behind him. He had an idea of what Apollo had planned, and sure enough, a lotion-slicked cock slid between his thighs.
“Ever done it like this?” Apollo kissed the back of Dylan’s neck. This position felt far more intimate, far more exposed, than the jerk-off of a few moments ago, even though the mechanics weren’t that different.
“Uh-huh.” It was hard to talk when Apollo’s hand snaked around and found his cock with a slippery grip. He’d been in enough situations where anal wasn’t on the table for this to be familiar, but was more used to being the guy in Apollo’s position. However, he couldn’t deny there was something seductive about being surrounded by Apollo’s bulk like this. He tightened his thighs, loving how Apollo’s thick length dragged against the underside of his balls.
“So hot.” Apollo’s free arm held him snugly against his warm chest, the hair rasping against Dylan’s back. “Love watching your face.”
His strokes on Dylan’s cock were firm but leisurely, a slow build that drove Dylan out of his head, chased away everything other than this moment. A low moan escaped his throat.
“Sssh.” Apollo turned him enough that their mouths could meet in a clumsy kiss.
“Need this,” Dylan whispered against his lips.
“This what you like?” Apollo sped up both the strokes of his hand and his cock.
“Yeah. Fast. Hard.” Dylan reached back, pulling Apollo’s hips even closer.
“Impatient. We’ll get there.” Apollo chuckled before claiming Dylan’s mouth in another kiss. God, if he could incinerate Dylan’s nerve endings just from this type of rubbing off, Dylan couldn’t wait for fucking. The mere thought of that thick length inside him, insistently thrusting like this had him moaning.
Dylan bumped his ass backward in response, relishing how it made Apollo’s breath hitch.
“Yeah, squeeze me tight.” Apollo groaned into Dylan’s mouth. “God, look at us.”
“Yeah.” Their reflections undulated in the mirrored closet door. Dylan didn’t quite recognize himself—pupils blown wide with pleasure, flush across his chest and neck, hair a mess, head tipped back against Apollo. He looked totally at Apollo’s mercy—and happy as fuck with that, which wasn’t a lie. Usually, he’d be the one driving the tempo, deciding when to come and when to tease, but surrendering like this was unexpectedly delicious.
Dipping his head, Apollo nipped at Dylan’s shoulders. “Want to watch you lose it. Fuck, your face...everything.”
If only... Dylan would give a lot to really be everything for Apollo, to be enough. He shut his eyes, unwilling to scrutinize the sincerity in Apollo’s dark gaze. This was enough, had to be enough.
“Unnngh,” he moaned as Apollo’s strokes got rougher, the rhythm getting more frantic as Apollo panted against his neck.
“That’s it, babe. Come with me now.”
“Wish...want you to fuck me.”
“God, I want that too. Want to be inside...” Apollo’s hips stuttered as if that thought was just too much for him.
“Yes.” Dylan’s voice broke on the word as he erupted all over Apollo’s fist. His earlier orgasm had been like a pressure release valve opening—awesome relief, but not all-encompassing like this. His body shuddered over and over as the orgasm washed over him, ass clenching as surely as if they were fucking, head spinning with white-hot sensations.
“That’s it.” Apollo’s grip on Dylan’s chest tightened and his hips snapped as he too came in a series of husky, choked moans. God, Dylan loved how vocal Apollo could be in bed, how it seemed like despite his best efforts he just couldn’t stay quiet when he came.
“Fuck.” Apollo rolled to his back. “That was intense.”
Intense. That was one way to describe the best non-fucking experience of Dylan’s entire sex life. God, he’d felt so close to Apollo there at the end. Dangerously close. He could not afford to let his feelings rise up in his chest, make all his muscles tight, make his heart leap. Nope. None of that.
He forced himself to sit up. “Damn. I’m going to need a shower before I sleep.”
“Same.” Apollo laughed. “Listen—”
“You need to sleep in your own room in case the girls need you. I get it.” Dylan didn’t wait for Apollo to be the one to say the words. Hell, he needed the distance even more than Apollo. No way could he sleep next to Apollo all night again after sex like that. Boundaries. That’s what they needed. Strict boundaries and realism about what this was—and what it wasn’t.