Sloan grabbed the front of his apron, yanking it up to Conall’s stomach and peering over his shoulder, as though he wanted everyone to see Conall tugging himself off. “So fucking beautiful, pet. You’re mine. Never forget it.”
Conall’s orgasm teased him, drawing him closer to heaven. His balls throbbed, and the moment Sloan touched his lips to the back of Conall’s neck, it was all over. Cock jerking, cum spurted across the soil-covered counter. Conall shivered through his release, groaning and shaking while Sloan continued to pound into him, not letting go of the apron at Conall’s stomach.
The noises Sloan made told Conall he wasn’t far off from his own orgasm, and a few thrusts later, Sloan stilled, warmth filling Conall’s sensitive hole. “Fuck, pet,” he groaned out.
“Language,” Conall teased, exhaustion weighing him down. He was tempted to lay his chest on the counter, even though it had his release mixed in with the dirt.
Sloan laughed and tiredly slapped Conall on the arse again before he pulled out, making them both hiss at the pop of his cockhead breaching past Conall’s tight ring. Sloan tucked himself back into his pants and helped Conall straighten.
The familiar bite of pain after sex had Conall sighing in ecstasy. He loved this part almost as much as the actual fucking.
“Are you okay, pet?”
“Yep.” He leaned against Sloan’s chest and tilted his head back. “Never better. When do I get my car?”
Sloan shook his head, smirking. “I should spank you until your cheeks are red.”
“Then you’d want to fuck me again.”
Sloan sighed and muttered something about pesky pets, and Conall laughed.