L Witt - Nine-tenths of the Law

After a long moment, he broke the kiss and looked at me, running his fingers through my hair. His gaze shifted back and forth between my eyes and his own hand with the cuff dangling beside my face. For a moment, he seemed to lose focus, looking at something unseen as he ran the tip of his tongue across his lower lip. His brow furrowed slightly as if some thought had crossed his mind, something that required extra concentration.

Just as he had earlier when he’d made the decision to go through with this, he let out a breath and met my eyes, his mind obviously made up about some question I wasn’t aware of. Then, with one hand still on the back of my neck, he reached for the nightstand. The handcuff clanged against the drawer, but it was the sound of foil brushing across foil that made me shiver.

His hand came back with the condom between two fingers, just as I’d expected, but I wasn’t prepared when his eyes-intense, determined, decided-met mine and he held the foil packet out to me.

Just the thought of being inside him made my entire body tremble. I couldn’t breathe. Never in my life had I been this perfectly, painfully turned on, and for a moment, I couldn’t even move because I was sure that if my skin so much as brushed his, I’d come.

I wanted to ask if he was sure, but my mouth went dry. That and the look in his eyes answered any question I might have thought to ask.

I took the condom and tore the wrapper with my teeth. He exhaled hard through parted lips and held my gaze, watching me watch him. When I shifted my weight onto one elbow, reaching between us to put the condom on, he put his hands on my neck and pulled me into a deep kiss.

Putting a condom on without looking wasn’t difficult, but trying to do anything while kissing Nathan was nearly impossible. Without breaking the kiss, he slid a hand between us and helped, rolling it on quickly. But even once it was in place, we didn’t move. Didn’t separate. Didn’t do a damned thing except make out like we couldn’t imagine doing anything else.

Eventually, though, I couldn’t wait any more. After a second, third and fourth attempt to break the kiss, I pushed myself up on my arms and gestured for him to come up with me. He did as I poured some lube into my hand.

“Which way do you prefer?” I asked, surprised my voice wasn’t shaking more than it was.

“Your call.” He grinned into a long kiss. “You’re the one in control.”

“In that case,” I murmured against his lips. “Get on your hands and knees.” He shivered, and I hoped-prayed to any deity I could think of-that it was only anticipation, not dread or regret. The hunger in his next kiss told me my prayers were answered. Then he turned around, just as I’d hoped.

Kneeling behind him, I ran my hands up his sides, just looking at him.

“What’s wrong?” he asked over his shoulder.

“Nothing, I’ve just…” Never seen you this way. Christ, you’re beautiful, Nathan . I cleared my throat. “Nothing.” Running my hands over his hips, I whispered again, more to myself this time, “Nothing at all.”

With one hand on the small of his back and the other guiding my own cock to him, I pushed against him. He tensed. Took a breath. Held it. I waited, moving my hand gently across his lower back to keep him aware of me, though somehow I doubted he’d have any difficulty remembering I was there.

When he released his breath, the tension in his back and shoulders seemed to melt away, and only then did I press harder against him.

The room spun around me as my cock slid into him, and I held on to his hips, trying to stay in the present. Even with my fingers digging into his hips, my grasp on reality slipped away, my head getting lighter with each stroke I took.

Then I realized that, overwhelmed as I was, I’d forgotten to breathe. Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath and the spinning slowed, but didn’t stop. I didn’t expect it to. Being inside him felt too damned good not to make me dizzy.

He tensed, his breath catching as I withdrew.

“You sure you’re okay?” I asked.

“Yeah,” he said, barely whispering. “I’m…” His breath caught again as I pushed back in. “Fuck, don’t-” Another gasp.

I stopped. “What? Don’t-”

“Don’t stop ,” he growled, leaning back against me to pull me deeper.

Relief flooded through me, as if I’d expected him to call things to a halt. I wouldn’t have hesitated to stop, but he felt so good, so damned good, I didn’t want to stop.

We moved together, my hips mirroring his forward-and-back motions. I let him guide me, allowing him to find the speed that was most comfortable for him, and that speed was well past slow and gentle. Caution and uncertainty fell by the wayside in favor of desperation and hunger. I slammed into him, harder and faster in response to his pleas and growled demands for more. More than once, my body tried to lose control, but I willed myself to keep going. I couldn’t come yet. Please, God, not yet .

My legs burned with fatigue and, when it became too much, I lost speed. I ran my hands up and down his back as I struggled to catch my breath.

“Fuck,” he moaned. “Oh, fuck, you feel so good.”

“So do you,” I said. “I just had to slow down for a minute. My legs were getting tired.”

“Fine by me,” he said. “I like it like this, too.”

Taking longer strokes now, I rested one hand on the bed beside his and wrapped my other arm around his waist. I’d intended to trail my fingertips down his abs, to tease him just a bit before I stroked his cock, but the quivering beneath my touch fascinated me. When I exhaled against his spine, his abs contracted, and when I kissed the back of his shoulder, they relaxed as he released a shuddering breath.

I flattened my palm across his stomach. Instead of moving down, my hand slid up, toward his chest.

His body shifted slightly, and a second later, his hand was over mine, clasping it gently. In our earlier desperation, we hadn’t bothered to take off the cuffs, and they dangled noisily from his wrist, jingling each time we moved, each time he breathed.

Even though we moved slowly, each stroke was nearly too much, threatening to send me into the stratosphere with the electric pulses that rippled up my spine. My need for release bordered on painful, but this couldn’t be over yet. God only knew when-or if-I’d be able to do this with him again, and I intended to feel, savor and memorize every last stroke.

“Oh, God…” The vibration of his voice beneath my hand sent goose bumps all the way up my arm.

“Like that?” I said through clenched teeth, struggling to stay in control.

He took a breath, started to speak, but only moaned. Finally he managed a nod. A shudder worked its way through him. He was close, he had to be.

I freed my hand from his and slid it down his chest, intending to stroke his cock, but he grabbed my hand. He laced his fingers between mine and held our joined hands against his chest. I could only move from the hips now, but this closeness, this intimacy, overwhelmed me more than the violent, powerful thrusts from just minutes before.

Riding him slowly, holding him close this way, I lost myself in him. I completely and utterly lost myself in him. This wasn’t what I’d expected when I suggested pushing our boundaries with a set of handcuffs and some hard-won surrender. I’d only hoped to give him a chance to see that he could trust me, that I wouldn’t hurt him.

But I was the one surrendering to him. The more I held him and moved inside him, the more I realized just how much I wanted this. Not just the sex. This. Him . My eagerness for his trust, I realized, came from some deep, untapped well of emotions that I wasn’t supposed to feel for him.