“It’s okay,” Danny said, his voice low and compelling over the snap of the button. “You won’t come yet.”
“Been thinking about you—this—all day.” Paul groaned as he watched Danny lower his zipper, those dark eyes holding him captive once more. Several beer bottles fell over and rolled away when Danny crawled over him. Paul arched into Danny, desperate for contact even with the threat of pushing himself over the edge. “Fuck, Danny Boy. I need—”
“What’d you need?” Danny asked, straddling Paul’s hips as he pulled his own cock out of his underwear, stroking the thick length of it as Paul watched greedily. “You want me to fuck you again? Is that what you were thinking about in class?”
Paul nodded mutely, suddenly breathless. Anticipation coiled in his stomach, making the muscles clench as his eyes ran over Danny’s long, lithe form. The awe of wanting him as desperately as he did was still new and exciting, so much so he had to close his eyes once more against the image of Danny over him, dark and dominant, his scent a mixture of expensive cologne, cigarettes and man. The combination had his cock jerking in his hand in a way he would have never guessed before last night.
When Danny’s fingers threaded into Paul’s hair, tightening in the strands and forcing his head back roughly, Paul went with him, his body bowing submissively. Everything blurred under the weight of lust. He was actually quivering when Danny leaned down, biting his bottom lip, forcing Paul to release the tight hold his teeth had on it.
“Finish me,” Danny breathed into his mouth. “Do both of us.”
Paul moved beneath him, sliding down until their bodies were aligned. He arched up, fisting both their cocks, feeling everything in that moment, the scrape of old, dry wood against his bare back, the awkwardness of two pairs of jeans hanging low past their asses, the brush of underwear against his balls that were tight with the need for release. He felt it all, but he noticed only Danny, heard only his low groan as their cocks slid together in Paul’s hand.
Obviously as caught up as Paul was, Danny fisted Paul’s hair tighter and thrust against him, all his weight resting on one open palm.
The slide of Danny’s cock against his, mixing with the intimacy and deviance of the act, had Paul gasping out loud. “Fuck.” He licked his lips, fighting for breath and the strength to hold off a little longer. “I can’t—”
“Then don’t,” Danny panted, hips thrusting demandingly, forcing the pace of Paul’s tight-fisted stroking of their cocks. “Come for me, Paul Guy. I wanna watch you do it.”
That was all it took. Paul couldn’t help but cry out when the climax slammed into him. The pleasure was blinding, his entire body shuddering from the force of it. The slide of two hard cocks against his palm became slick as cum pulsed past his fingers. The bliss held him suspended in a place only Danny could take him, but Paul’s strokes finally became lazy when the rush started to subside. The throb settled to a low hum of contentment that had Paul’s body falling lax as he reveled in the aftermath.
“I’m not there yet,” Danny reminded him, his voice husky as Paul picked up the pace, now focusing solely on him. Danny leaned down until his forehead rested against Paul’s. “Mmm, faster. Don’t do it like a chick.”
Paul gave a breathless laugh, stroking him faster, savoring the moment, trying to take in every second. He fought to open his eyes, seeing the pleasure on Danny’s beautiful face. The battle was worth it. The level of Paul’s enthusiasm had Danny’s entire body tensing. He came in Paul’s hand with a low groan and Paul savored the pleasure that etched itself over Danny’s features, feeling a surge of pride knowing he was the one to give that to him.
They were sweaty in the aftermath and more than a little sticky as Danny collapsed over Paul, breathing into the curve of his neck. “That was good.”
“Thanks.” Paul pulled his hand out from between their bodies, knowing he and Danny were in desperate need of a shower, or at least a towel, but all he said as he nudged Danny’s shoulder until he lifted his head to look at him curiously was, “You wanna fuck me?”
Danny’s eyebrows rose and he didn’t even hesitate before he said, “Sure.”
*
Paul looked like an angel when he slept.
Danny had always thought so, but now more than ever, as he lay sprawled naked on his stomach over Danny’s mattress. Paul’s face was turned toward him and Danny sat on the floor smoking a cigarette, feeling like a heartsick fool as he studied him.
He resisted the urge to reach out and touch him, to run his fingers over his face, to memorize his features the way they looked right then, sated from too much sex. He radiated a strange sort of peacefulness that was odd for anyone, but especially from a man like Paul, who endured so much and whose life was anything but peaceful.