He grinned, as if it was challenge accepted. He shoved his hand into his briefs and began stroking. “Wanna see how many times you can come inside me?”
And that was it.
Harry took one large step, spun Asher around, and pushed him to kneel on the bed. He ripped his jeans down, exposing Asher’s ass, then took the lube, drizzling it down his crack. Asher moaned when Harry undid his fly, and he dropped his head down to the mattress as Harry swiped his erection through the lube.
“You want it rough,” Harry grunted. “Then take it.”
He pushed his blunt cockhead into Asher, hard and fast, plunging into him without preparation.
Asher groaned, his back arching, and tried to lean forward, but Harry gripped his hips and held him in place. “You said you wanted it,” he bit out. The immediate wet, tight heat was almost too much to bear, but the pleasure drove him to start fucking.
He held onto Asher’s hips and thrust into him, hard and fast, drilling him up to the hilt with every pass.
Asher gripped the bed covers, moaning too loudly. So Harry pulled Asher up by his shoulder, impaling him with his cock, and covered his mouth with his hand. “Be quiet.”
Asher was rocking, moaning and whining, muffled by Harry’s hand. Asher gripped his own erection and began to pleasure himself until his whole body went rigid, then jerked and spasmed. His body vibrated, Harry’s cock pushing further in, and Asher came.
He rode out his orgasm fully impaled on Harry’s cock, and when he sagged heavily, Harry let him slump on the bed, gripped his hips, and kept fucking him. Asher cried out with each thrust, and Harry fucked him harder, deeper, chasing and climbing his pleasure to its peak, until he finally tumbled over the edge.
He came hard, and Asher groaned with each pulse, taking every drop.
Harry’s head spun, all his senses absent except for pleasure. All he ever wanted was to know this feeling, this bliss, and nothing else.
He was still holding Asher’s hips, rocking into him, wringing out every ounce. He knew he’d probably hurt him, even though Asher had orgasmed, Harry doubted it was without pain.
Harry pulled out slowly, his cock still heavy, still full, and let Asher slump onto the bed. Harry was about to ask him if he was okay, wondering how guilty he should feel for giving Asher exactly what he wanted, when Asher moaned out a laugh and held up one finger. “That’s one.”
So help me God.
Round two was after dinner. They’d watched two terrible movies and Asher hadn’t moved from the bed. When he was bored with the television, he rolled onto his front and pulled his jeans down to reveal his ass cheeks.
Round three was before sunrise. They’d slept with big-spoon Harry’s arms wrapped tight around little-spoon Asher. Asher wasn’t wearing any clothes at all, and Harry didn’t know how Asher could want any more sex, but he writhed and rubbed against Harry’s morning wood. “I’m so full of your come I don’t need lube,” he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep and desire. “Just more of you.”
So Harry gave him round number three.
A few hours later, both showered and fed, Harry was sitting at the table and Asher began looking at him again, sizing him up, daring.
Harry knew that look all too well and shook his head. “No. You’ll be too sore.”
“How about I decide what’s good for my body and you just deliver the goods?”
Harry snorted out a laugh. “I’ve delivered enough goods. You’re just bored.”
Asher whined like a spoiled child, then cursed him out in a language Harry didn’t know, so Harry crash-tackled him on the bed, both of them laughing. Harry held Asher tight until Asher stopped struggling, they kissed and bit at each other’s necks and ears, but it never became anything more. Eventually Asher rested his head on Harry’s chest, and they watched another movie. This one was actually okay.
Or maybe it had nothing to do with the movie and everything to do with getting to lay in bed, his arms around a man. And a man he felt something for. And he did feel something. Despite the seesaw of wanting to be with him and wanting to wring his bloody neck, Harry knew he was leaning more to the side of wanting to be with him.
He liked Asher, as much as that annoyed him. As much as it did his head in and would probably see them both killed...
Harry gave Asher a squeeze and kissed the top of his head before he realised what he’d done. It was a personal, intimate, and honest thing to do.Shit.He froze.
Asher just laughed. “How much do you hate yourself right now?”
“Shut the fuck up.”
After a few beats of silence, Asher’s fingers trailed along Harry’s skin where his shirt had ridden up. Harry laughed and held Asher’s hand still. “Are you ticklish?” Asher asked, as if it was the most absurd thing he’d ever heard.
“I wasn’t before now.”