8

Trey laughed and pulled his fingers out, eliciting a small whine from Zane.

Paper ripped. Trey had grabbed a towelette packet to wipe his hand.

“Nothing wrong with waiting until you’re ready.” To Zane’s relief, Trey’s voice was thick with anticipation. “You’re bound to enjoy it more this way.”

Zane was already enjoying it. He still held the box of condoms, his tensed-up hand having crumpled the cardboard. Trey rescued the squashed package and took out what he needed.

Unable to resist, Zane turned his head to watch. As graceful as a sculptor smoothing a length of clay, Trey rolled the latex on.

“Now I know I’m big,” Trey said, stroking his shaft more than he had to. “I promise you, though, you can take my mighty sword. You don’t have to worry about swooning.”

“Fuck,” Zane said, startled into a laugh.

Seeing his joke was appreciated, Trey grinned broadly. His mighty sword sheathed and ready, he cruised his hands gently up Zane’s back. “I love you,” he said. “I’m really glad you’re ready to try this.”

He said this as easily as Zane would wish him luck on an exam. He seemed not to realize hearing it would stun Zane. Trey loved him? Trey wanted to say it? Zane knew they were best friends; more than friends, truthfully. Nonetheless, those words rocked his foundations.

“Shush,” Trey said, amusement crinkling his eyes. “That’s a freebie. No need to think about it too hard.”

“I—”

“Shush,” Trey repeated before he could stammer. “New rules are I get to say what I like when I’m fucking you.”

“You’re not fucking me yet,” Zane returned weakly.

Trey leaned down to nip his shoulder. “Hairsplitter,” he mocked him.

He drew his hands to Zane’s ass, pulling his cheeks apart. “Push out a little,” he said. “My cock is wider than my fingers.”

It was wider, but by God it felt good. Being taken was different than being the one in charge. Something in Zane, something not of the body, felt like it was giving way. He was trusting Trey, more than he ever had before. Maybe it should have alarmed him, but that pleasure was as intense as the rigid pole pushing into him. Trey obviously liked penetrating him. Zane heard the hitch in his breathing, the little moan of bliss that caught in his throat.

“Okay,” Trey panted, once he was halfway in. “Your erection might flag a little, but trust me it will come back.”

Caught beneath the Chesterfield’s soft roll arm, Zane’s erection was solid as granite. “Um,” he said, “I think my libido is skipping past that part.”

He arched to take more of Trey, the shift in angle allowing the other man to glide in all the way. That felt so awesome they moaned in chorus.

“You okay?” Trey panted.

“Yes.” Zane couldn’t help squirming. Stretched by Trey’s huge erection, he couldn’t decide if his back passage itched or just felt wonderful. “You?”

Trey’s ragged breathing broke up his laugh. “My tattoo stings a little. It’s really making me hot.”

Him saying so made Zane’s toes dig into the plush carpet. He swung one arm back to latch onto Trey’s hip. “Please don’t wait. Please fuck me right away.”

Trey trailed his fingertips up Zane’s arm. “Okay,” he said, bending to kiss Zane’s shoulder. “You don’t have to hold me, though. I promise I’ll get you where you need to go. Your first time, you should just relax and enjoy.”

Zane let go reluctantly. Leaving everything up to Trey didn’t sit naturally with him. With a quiet grunt of approval, Trey slid one arm beneath Zane’s chest, hugging him firmly for leverage. His other hand gripped the couch cushion. Something about the sight was unbelievably sexy. Their bodies situated, Trey retreated to Zane’s brink. Zane sank his teeth in his lip, dying for the pulsing organ to drive back in.

Trey rocked forward with the perfect amount of oomph to push a gasp from him.

Trey didn’t ask Zane if this felt good. Zane wasn’t his first, and he knew what he was doing. He repeated the thrust instead, building speed, building force, until Zane’s moans began sounding crazed. Trey had found his prostate. The flare of his glans ran repeatedly over it, the fatter center of his shaft adding a wonderful extra pressure to the proceedings. Zane even liked the smoothness of Trey’s shaven groin slapping him.

“I can . . . rub your cock,” Trey offered, his chest wall tight behind him. “Sometimes taking it in the ass . . . isn’t enough to bring guys off.”

In Zane’s experience, it was always enough for Trey.

“There’s no wrong answer,” Trey assured him when he hesitated. “Ask for . . . whatever seems good to you.”

Zane didn’t get a chance. Trey shifted his legs apart, maybe to improve his balance, or maybe just because. The move stretched Zane’s legs wider. His feet were stuck in the broadened stance, held in place by Trey’s weight and position. The sensation of being trapped heightened his awareness of Trey pumping inside him. Zane’s throat went tight, his lungs struggling to get air fast enough.

Did Trey know what he’d just done to him? If he did, he’d done something to himself as well. His thrusts came harder, his hips slinging jerkily inward. The leather couch cushion creaked from the strength with which he gripped it. He

was breathing as raggedly as Zane.

“Hold my cock.” Zane panted out the order, sensing Trey didn’t have much longer. “Hold it . . . really tight and don’t rub.”

Trey released the couch cushion, fumbling under his partner to get a grip on him.

Trey’s fingers tightened and Zane cried out. His next cry was even hoarser, because of course Trey wasn’t satisfied with a simple hold. He’d always been fascinated by Zane’s foreskin. Now he cinched it with thumb and forefinger, forcing the retracted hood back above the flare. He shimmied it around Zane’s glans, pleasure stinging the sharpest nerves he had.

“Take it,” Trey urged, his hips and his voice gone wild. “Fucking take your climax. Fucking come over my fingers.”

Trey’s own words did a number on himself. He shoved hard, his cum flooding Zane with heat. The final jump and swell of his cock pushed against Zane’s prostate.

“Zane!” Trey cried, pulling back two inches and slamming in again.

Zane’s heart thumped a mile a minute, the ache in his lower torso deliciously suspenseful. About to die if he didn’t come, he threw back his head and bucked as hard as he could into Trey’s next thrust.

The orgasm seemed to explode inside his brain.

He spurted over Trey’s fingers, spraying the couch, the rug—hell, maybe half of Boston. This was a colossal ejaculation, more than could be accounted for by the week he’d gone without. Trey had touched off a switch inside him, and possibly in himself. That they’d been fucking each other five years now didn’t seem to matter. The twists and turns of their kinks still had some surprises left.

They both were shaking when Trey sank over him.

“Jesus,” he said, dragging his lax mouth across Zane’s sweat-streaked skin. “Tell me I didn’t hurt you at the end.”

“You didn’t hurt me,” Zane slurred obediently.

Trey pulled out with a groan, dropping from where he was to sit on the floor. “I don’t think I can stand up.”

Without his weight, Zane felt as light as air. He squirmed fully onto the couch, then turned himself around. Trey’s damp dark head was near enough to pet.

“Thank you,” Zane said. He meant for everything: the last five years, tonight, the future they were going to share together. Zane might not have cornered the market on introspection, but he knew this was a rare moment. In this moment, his life was very close to perfect.

As if he sensed his thoughts, Trey drew Zane’s hand down and kissed its palm.

Emotion overwhelmed him. How could he deserve this man? Trey’s kindness alone was humbling, his ability to forgive. Trey never held back his affection, no matter what Zane did. In the face of that, Zane had no right to deny him anything he wanted.

“We could go back to Wilde’s tomorrow,” he offered impulsively. “See if the lobster is fresh yet.”

Trey hesitated for one heartbeat. “No,” he said. “I expect we’ll be too busy to try their food again.”