Page 77 of Save the Game
He keeps at it, hands pressed to the backs of my thighs to remind me to keep them pushed back, and my own hands twisting in the bedsheet. He’s fucking me with his tongue, the feeling so unbelievably good I’ve forgotten to be nervous. Needing to release some of the pressure that’s building in my body, I wrap a hand around my dick, smearing the precum down as I jack myself. Luke groans, either from the sight of me touching myself or the taste of my ass; I can’t believe this is just foreplay and not the main event—how the fuck could anything be as good as this?
I almost sob when he stops, pulling his mouth away with a final parting lick. Resting my feet back on the bed, I raise a hand and run it through my sweaty hair. Luke, reaching for the lube and coating a finger, watches me.
“I’m okay,” I say, answering the question before he has a chance to ask it. “I’m okay.”
In fact, I’m better than okay. I feel fucking fantastic after that, and nearly ask if we can flip around so I can do the same to him. He separates my cheeks again, and presses his lubed finger where his mouth just vacated. Already stretched from his tongue, he slides easily inside, and my eyes flutter closed on a small gasp. Rotating his hand, he brushes the pad of his finger across my prostate.
“Luke,” I say, just as he does it again. It’s been so fucking long since somebody has touched me like this—since I’ve wanted someone to touch me like this. I feel full from a single finger.
“Maxy.” His soft voice has me opening my eyes and meeting his eyes. He’s watching me, barely moving his hand as he slowly stretches me open. “Does that feel okay?”
“Yes. Yes. God, yes,” I chant nonsensically. The only thing that could make this better would be for him to kiss me.
He adds a second finger painfully slowly, swirling and separating his fingers in a languid dance, brushing across my prostate repeatedly. Again, I have to reach down and give my dick a few quick pulls. Don’t come, don’t come, don’t come, I chant, as my release crests and recedes. More lube, cool against my skin, and a third finger is pressed inside. The pressure mounts, centered around my pelvis, and I keep my eyes on Luke’s beautiful face.
I’m prepped. Luke knows it, and I know it, but neither of us make a move to take things further. Pumping his fingers in, spreading them, and pulling them out slowly, he bends down and takes my dick back into his mouth. I arch upward, accidentally pushing myself deep into his throat and gagging him.
“Sorry,” I gasp, “I’m sorry.”
My apology sounds more like a moan as he presses against my prostate and licks across my tip. It feels so fucking heavenly, my eyes practically roll back in their sockets.
“That’s all right,” he murmurs, pulling off me long enough to speak, “you can thrust.”
As though my body is being controlled by a puppeteer, I arch my hips again, fucking myself into Luke’s mouth as he hollows his cheeks. I am dangerously close to coming, and as good as this feels, I want him inside me before that happens.
“Luke, Luke,” I pant, each syllable timed with a slow thrust of his hand. “Luke.”
He lets my dick slide from his mouth and looks up at me, brown eyes heated and skin flushed. His hand has stilled.
“We don’t have to go any further,” he tells me, swiping the pad of his finger over my prostate. “Whatever you want to do.”
“I’m ready. I want to keep going.”
He nods, pulls his fingers carefully out and leans down to kiss the top of my knee. My throat feels tight, all of a sudden, and the wild urge to tell him I love him nearly overcomes me. Now is not the fucking time, Max. Breathing deeply, I reach out and touch my fingertips to Luke’s chest, watching as he rolls on a condom.
Immediately, as though some internal switch was flicked, my heart rate picks up to abnormal intensity and lead fills my stomach. He leans over, looking between our bodies as one of his hands presses against the back of my thigh again. I catch his face with a hand, bringing his eyes back to mine. Come up here, please. Come kiss me.
I’d meant to say the words out loud, but can’t squeeze them past the tennis-ball-sized lump in my throat. He doesn’t need to hear them, anyway. Surging forward and planting his elbows on the bed by my ears, he kisses me. It’s a tender kiss, slow and loving. It doesn’t make it any easier for me to breathe.
“Hey, baby.” The words are murmured straight into my mouth. “How are we doing?”
“Fine,” I manage to squeeze out. Luke lifts his face far enough back to get a good look at mine. Like earlier, he’s holding his weight off of me completely.
“Maxy.”
“I’m okay.”
“We can stop for today, this is enough” he says, and I close my eyes against the tears of frustration that threaten to spring up. Reaching down, I curl a hand over the curve of his ass; distantly, I realize that hand is shaking.
“Please. Keep going.” My voice is nearly inaudible, but even if he hadn’t heard me, the pressure I apply to his hip would have been answer enough. Please, keep going.
He doesn’t resist as I pull him closer, nor does he go any further than to resume kissing me. A lazy caress of lips and tongue, coupled with the hand he slides into my hair, fingers brushing across my scalp. I breathe through my nose, working to lower my heart rate. Lifting my feet and pulling my knees back, I use my grip on his ass to pull his pelvis forward once more. The silent request can’t be interpreted as anything other than what it is.
“Please,” I say again.
Turning my face to the side with his nose, he kisses across my jaw and whispers a reminder: “You can tell me to stop.”
I nod, tucking my knees further back into my chest and watching as reaches down between our bodies. Cupping my hands high up on his ribs, I stare up at the ceiling and desperately try to relax when I feel him press against my entrance. A drop of sweat runs down my hairline, tickling my skin. I count slowly down from a hundred, trying to distract myself from the pressure of Luke slowly pushing inside.