Hard bodies met, grinding as the two pulled harshly at what little clothes remained between them. Corrado didn’t remember when that last piece of clothing hit the floor—when it was just warm skin and muscle meeting his, but there it was.
He felt Alessio’s cock, already hard, slide against his own. Their hips moving in rhythm together to get that sensation, fast and desperate, he thought. That’s what was thrumming through his bloodstream with his heart now.
Desperation.
“Fuck, yeah,” Alessio groaned, mouth falling away from his.
Corrado’s hand shoved between their bodies to get his hand where he needed it the most. He only leaned up just long enough to grab that bottle of lube before he popped the top open, and got the cool gel piled on his fingertips. He didn’t keep the bottle, tossing it aside so he could get his hand back on Alessio’s throat while his other started to work.
His fingertips pressed against the tight ring of Alessio’s ass. Just two, at first, working in with slow, twisting strokes. His fingers curved tighter around Alessio’s throat as the man let out another one of those sounds.
Those groans.
And fuck, his moans.
His moans.
He was so fucking glad he wasn’t new to this—himself, and Alessio. Learning sex was fucking messy, and this wasn’t that at all. Not that he’d known that before this started, but he’d assumed. He knew he was right just by the way Alessio moved under him and asked for more. Any hesitations he had now were gone for sure.
“Christ,” Alessio hissed when Corrado had two fingers stretching the man out.
Stormy blue met raging brown when Alessio’s eyes lifted to meet his. And as much as he liked hearing those sounds, he wanted to taste them when they came out of the man. He got the heat of Alessio’s mouth against his as he worked that third finger into his ass as his palm flexed against his throat.
Alessio’s hands left the fisted sheets to grab onto Corrado’s wrists. He could feel it, the push and pull of his hold on Corrado, the way he wanted to keep him right there, but push him back, too.
That fight ...
Against Corrado’s roughness.
That’s what he wanted.
He pulled his slick hand from Alessio and let go of his throat, too. Those fingers digging into the skin of his wrist hard enough to bruise loosened, and in a breath, Corrado had Alessio twisted around to his stomach on the bed. His teeth found the hard muscles of Alessio’s back as he snatched up the packet on the bed. He made quick work of getting the condom open, and sliding it down. The lube on his fingers already soaking his length.
And fuck, he felt painful.
Throbbing and aching.
He stroked his dick, getting that lube all over as his mouth found Alessio’s back again. The man pushed up against him, seeking more. His hands fisted into the sheets on the bed as Corrado fit the head of his cock against Alessio’s ass.
He’d stretched him.
And he was still tight enough to hurt.
Alessio let out a shuddering breath, and Corrado slowed. He didn’t need to hear his words to know—easy, easy. So, that’s what he did, careful and fucking slow. Until his chest was so tight from holding back that it hurt, too. It was only when he was halfway to nine inches deep that he heard Alessio’s voice, husky and deep.
“Fuck, yeah.”
Corrado swore those two words rumbled along the bed, reaching his spot like a shot of heat right to his marrow. One hand splayed to Alessio’s back, his other grabbing tight to the man’s side.
It was only once he was seated entirely inside Alessio that he felt like he could take in a breath again. Still ragged and aching, though. His chest still felt too damn tight, and it wasn’t going to get better until—
“Fucking make me come,” Alessio murmured.
That.
Until that.
His hips pulled back from Alessio slightly faster than he’d worked his way in, and then flexed forward faster again. The rhythm became a little rougher with each push and pull. Alessio found Corrado’s hand at his side, and yanked it under him.
He used Corrado’s hand to tug at his cock, his own being the one that worked him. He used him to get himself off, while Corrado used him to do the same.
“Shit, shit,” Corrado heard himself mumble.
He couldn’t remember sex being so quiet. And he didn’t want to remember it differently now.
So fucking intense.
Like it had turned into something else—something raw, a need that just had to be filled, and now. But God, where had this been?
His next thrust came harder, and Alessio let out a sound that felt primal. “Right there.”
Alessio’s back tensed. His fingers around Corrado’s tightened, and pulled at his hand to work his length faster.
That sound came out of him again as warm cum hit Corrado’s fingertips. “Jesus, Corrado.”
He hadn’t realized his own orgasm was so close until Alessio swore again, and his ass tightened around Corrado as he kept up his pace. But there it was, and he leaned down to splay his palm against Alessio’s back, his teeth biting into warm skin as he came, too.
So fucking deep.
He couldn’t speak.
Didn’t want to.
Alessio let out a slow exhale. “What the fuck was that?”
Oh, fucking great.
So it hadn’t just been him that this felt new for.
“Something good,” Corrado mumbled against his skin.
“Yeah.”
As the shaking started to wane, his mouth trailed higher over Alessio’s back. His teeth found the junction of Alessio’s shoulder and neck, biting just hard enough for him to react. And he did—his semi-hard dick jerking in Corrado’s hand. He tightened his grip just to let the man know he felt that, too.
“Fuck,” Alessio mumbled. “Easy.”
Corrado laughed. “Now, you want easy?”
“And?” Then, quieter, Alessio added, “I know I fucked up earlier ... I didn’t think because I didn’t like seeing it—him taunting you when you were already down. So, I reacted.”
Clearing his throat, Corrado pulled himself carefully from Alessio before rolling to his side on the double bed. Using his arms as a pillow, he stared hard at the ceiling for a while, saying nothing. He heard what Alessio told him; he understood it was important. Sometimes, things people said didn’t seem all that deep on the surface, but it was the shit they didn’t say that mattered the most.
He figured with this ... the things Alessio said and didn’t say were both equally important, and he needed to keep the fuck up.
Glancing over at his companion in the bed, Corrado replied, “I get it—you can’t do it again, though.”
Alessio, still on his stomach with his hands twisting into the edge of the comforter, curled his upper lip like the idea offended him. “What, protect you?”
Corrado frowned.
Was that what he’d thought he did?
“I don’t think I can do that,” Alessio said after a beat of silence passed between them. “But I’m not really sorry about it.”
Yeah.
11.
Alessio
“What do you think he said?” Chris asked, his sarcasm heavy. “It’s Cree, you figure it out.”
“So, he basically told you no, but spouted some Yoda bullshit while he was at it.”