“Is that a warning?” Trey chuckled, nipping his lower lip.
“Fuck. Me.”
“I plan to.”
“Now.” Magnus sucked in a rush of air when Trey’s cock grazed his taint.
Had they not needed protection, Magnus would’ve welcomed Trey inside him right then and there. Screw the lube, screw all common sense, he would’ve taken the man inside his body. He was that fucking desperate to be used by him. It was rare for Magnus to get so caught up in someone, especially during sex, so it took him by surprise just how willing he was.
Luckily Trey was still sane, because he was off the bed in an instant, padding naked out of the bedroom. When he returned, he was carrying a strip of condoms and a bottle of lube.
Magnus had enough time to ease his heart out of the dangerously-close-to-exploding range, watching as Trey ripped open a condom, rolled it on, then crawled back onto the bed, lube in his hand.
“You sure you’re up for this?” Trey asked, kneeling beside him.
“Do your worst,” he goaded.
Trey’s eyes were dark in the dimly lit room, but Magnus could see the glint in them as he pumped the lubricant into his palm, stroked himself with one hand.
Christ. This was going to fucking hurt. He knew it, and part of him hesitated. It had been too damn long since he’d bottomed for anyone.
“Turn over,” Trey said, smacking his thigh.
Magnus tried to hide his hesitation as he slowly rolled onto his stomach. He didn’t have much time to be reluctant, because Trey gripped his hips, jerked him back so he was on all fours. Fully expecting Trey to ram inside him, he braced himself, locking his elbows, gritting his teeth. That was the very reason he cried out when Trey didn’t thrust into him with his cock but rather his tongue.
“Oh, fuck,” he hissed, his chest crashing to the bed as the pleasure made his limbs weak.
When was the last time he’d been rimmed? Hell, he couldn’t remember, but fucking hell, it felt good. Too good. He moaned in earnest, cock throbbing as pleasure assaulted him.
It went on and on, but not nearly long enough before Trey’s mouth slowed.
“You ready for me?” Trey asked, his words darkly erotic as his lips trailed over Magnus’s ass cheek.
Magnus found he was rocking, forward, back, desperate for more as cool liquid ran down the crack of his ass. The chill on his overheated skin made goose bumps appear but he welcomed them. He was a riot of sensation, dangerously close to sensory overload.
When Trey pushed a finger inside him, Magnus’s cock swelled, his balls tightening as sparks ignited along his spine. It had been so long since…
Trey wasn’t rough, but he wasn’t gentle. He fingered Magnus with skill and attention. It was heaven and hell at the same time, too much but not enough, exquisite yet terrifying.
And Magnus never wanted it to stop.
“Oh, fuck … Trey … oh, fuck.”
That finger remained inside him, pumping slowly, but Magnus was aware of Trey shifting behind him. Another finger pressed inside, scissored, causing a bite of pain that was quickly overridden by pleasure.
“More,” he pleaded, knowing he was too damn close to the edge.
Trey’s fingers disappeared, then the pressure of his cock against his hole became his only focus. Time seemed to slow as the tension mounted again, fear of more pain took over, had his muscles locking. He didn’t even realize he was doing it until he felt Trey’s breath against his ear.
“Relax. Let it feel good.”
If only.
Trey’s lips glided over his shoulders as the weight of him covered Magnus, forcing his upper body flat to the mattress. The reprieve gave him time to breathe, time to pull himself back from the brink even as he anxiously awaited Trey’s next move.
“You wanna feel my cock inside you?”
Magnus nodded.
“Tell me.”
“Yes. God, yes.” He relaxed as Trey shifted and moved, his cock aligning once more, but this time he was pushing in slowly, gently, stretching him wide as he filled him.
“So tight,” Trey groaned. “You feel so fuckin’ good, Magnus. Too fuckin’ good.”
The pain … it was there, but it was manageable. To the point Magnus focused solely on the pleasure, the feel of Trey on top of him, the choppy breaths he was taking as he sank in deeper.
Trey retreated, pushed in. Shallow strokes meant to torment, Magnus knew. He did that until Magnus was breathing hard once more, panting and eager. When Magnus groaned Trey’s name, the man thrust his hips forward and drove in as deep as he could.
A guttural groan escaped him, followed by another as Trey began rocking his hips, burying himself impossibly deep. Only when Magnus was begging for more did Trey comply. Next thing Magnus knew, he was on all fours, Trey pounding into him from behind, again and again, his fingers curling over Magnus’s shoulders as he held him firmly in place.
Trey grunted, groaned, and continued to plow into him. Magnus’s muscles locked as the pleasure—so intense it was damn near painful—had him shouting Trey’s name as that mounting tension came dangerously close to shattering.
“Fuck,” Trey hissed. “Come for me, Magnus.”
He did. A storm of sensation overwhelmed his body and mind, had him groaning low in his throat as his orgasm ripped right through him.
Before the electrical storm waging war inside him could settle, Trey slammed into him one final time and growled his name in a way that had Magnus praying there would be a round two.
Back in the present, Magnus downed the rest of his beer. His entire body was hard, aching and desperate for the release he’d found that night. He hadn’t found it since, despite numerous attempts.
Glancing over at Trey, he saw the man was watching him. And if he had to guess, Trey was reliving that night right along with him.
Magnus knew there was only one way to handle a man like Trey Walker.
“Take me home with you, Trey,” he said, his voice low, eyes serious. “What do you have to lose?”
Chapter Thirteen
Trey raised a hand, ordered another beer.
It was the only thing he could think to do to stall.
What he should’ve been doing was telling Magnus he was out of his fucking mind. That there was no way he was taking him home.
No.
Fucking.
Way.
Dammit.
He was going to take Magnus home.
It was inevitable and Trey knew it as well as he knew his own fucking name. He’d spent far too much time thinking about that night. His memories were so powerful, there were times Trey wondered if it had really happened at all. Surely his imagination had taken a decent fuck and turned it into an epic moment. No way had those sensations been real.
There was one way for him to be sure though. He could take Magnus up on his offer. They could go for round two, see if it lived up to the hype. When it didn’t, Trey would know with certainty, and he could move on with his life.
Son of a bitch.
“Never mind, Mack,” he said quickly, standing up and pulling out his wallet. He slapped down a twenty to cover both his and Magnus’s beers.
The bartender lifted an eyebrow, watching him closely.
Trey started for the door. “You comin’ or what?” he called back to Magnus without turning around.