Heavy waves of hair rolled down his shoulder as Zane embraced him with one hand, his hips going at it with frantic determination. The thick cock plowed Roach repeatedly, going deep each time, and as Zane changed his angle and hit Roach’s prostate, they both moaned in unison, shivering as waves of pleasure rolled over them, leaving their skin damp with sweat.
Zane’s voice was raw honey in Roach’s ear. “Of course it’s fucking good. I’m gonna get you so hooked on my dick you’re never gonna even look at another guy. Until I kill you, you're mine. Understood?”
Too late for that warning, because Roach knew Zane was the guy for him. Why else would he have waited two years, only to give himself up like this the moment Zane was back? No one else would do. This fuck was everything he craved. He didn’t want a nice boyfriend. He wanted mean dick served with a helping of muscular, veiny arms, and hair, for days. He wanted each gentle slap to the face and every squeeze.
“Fuck. Yes. Like that. Gonna come!” Roach rocked against Zane, stabbing himself on the cock with no shame left.
Each plunge of Zane’s dick pushed cries out of his mouth. He couldn’t help it. Something about the way it pressed on that pleasure button inside made Roach strip all his inhibitions and wail. And whenever he tightened his ass around Zane’s beautiful length, his own twitched in response as if they were both fucking and getting fucked at the same time.
“Go on, come you dirty cumrag. I want your ass to suck my juices.”
So Roach did. He clenched his ass on Zane’s hot, stiff meat, milking it, riding him just as hard as Zane thrust into him, and he came with hot white pleasure exploding under his eyelids. He pressed back against Zane, whimpering, moaning, trying to reach back and grab the warm flesh. Roach’s body was frantic and for once it was not with panic but pleasure.
This was what he’d been waiting for all his life, and as Zane pushed into him one last time, grunting his pleasure straight into Roach’s ear, the sense of belonging was like a firm embrace Roach would do anything to keep going.
Claimed and dizzy from the most incredible experience of his life, he stumbled to the mattress and took Zane with him, so they spooned on their sides, catching their breath on the old mattress that was too soft and should have long been retired.
“I’ll be your cumrag any day,” Roach said with a giant grin. Self-respect was for suckers. If firm arms, orgasms, and sandalwood-scented hair were for cumrags, he had no hesitation whatsoever about his future.
Zane’s breathing stilled, but he seemed as exhausted as Roach, because he hadn’t said a word since he’d come. Roach grunted when the cock slipped out of him, but once they were no longer joined, he rolled over and planted a breathless kiss on the sweetest lips he’d ever tasted.
Zane’s mouth closed, and he pushed at Roach’s chest. “We’re done. What do you think you’re doing?”
“I’m kissing you. What do you think I’m doing? Just forget who I am and enjoy it.” Roach grabbed Zane’s jaw and pulled him back for another peck on the lips. His ass felt raw but also good in this weird way that made him want to squeeze his muscles as if Zane’s dick were still inside. He didn’t even want to shower the spunk away yet, because it felt so good to know he had it inside him. But reality crashed into him along with Zane’s hand, which hit the underside of his chin.
“I’m not kissing my cumrag,” Zane grumbled, rolling from under him as if the bed was on fire.
Roach grabbed his arm and pulled hard. “Just give me two fucking minutes!” Was that so much to ask? He wasn’t expecting a Valentine’s Day card, just some good old mouth fucking to cool off!
But Zane shoved him away, laughing at Roach’s pathetic attempts to keep him close. “Don’t be an idiot. We need to go.”
Roach rolled to his back with a deep sigh, presenting the body that made Zane lust after him despite the deep-seated loathing. Bond or no bond, someone like Zane wouldn’t have fucked Roach if he was a troll.
Zane gathered his long hair and pulled it to his chest, uncovering the broad planes of his back. It was the first time Roach had gotten to see him completely naked, and despite the rejection, he couldn’t help but stare at the muscles rippling under tanned skin as Zane moved. The bastard must have come here from somewhere much sunnier.
But there was something beyond the tattoo they shared dotting the otherwise perfect flesh. Round marks, the circumference of small soda cans were scattered across Zane’s flesh, one emerging from underneath the ink, one on the back of his thigh, two interlaced on his left buttock. He didn’t get to see much detail with such sparse light, but he gave that ass a dreamy look either way. It was perfect. Muscular, tight, but with a bit of roundness at the bottom. He’d eat it one day, because there was no way in hell Zane would reject Roach’s lips in that place.