Mike & Dylan

Chapter 11 - Mike

Fuck, I can't get enough of those eyes. They follow my every move, drinking me in. How could I not have known he felt so deeply for me? I dismiss the thoughts, I'm here now, and that's all that matters.

"Arms up," I growl.

Dylan obeys instantly, I want to chuckle, but I hold it in, knowing he is already nervous enough. I yank off the offending material, tossing it onto the floor with my discarded clothes.

I trace my eyes down his slender body, confirming his freckles don't stop at his neck but, in fact, span his whole body. I hold back another growl and pull his hips closer to the edge of the bed. It takes me no time at all to free his legs and throbbing dick from his jeans. Like mine, only smaller in size, I wait for my mind to fill with disgust, but all I feel is the growing desire to ravish this man. My jaw ticks as his dick twitches in my direction, cum beading down his length.

"Fuck, you're hot." I prowl forwards, bringing him with me as I settle over him in the middle of the bed once more. "Are you sure about this?" I have to ask. I have to know he's okay with this and not just because I'm desperate to feel his warmth wrap around my cock.

"Yes, Mike, I need you." He mumbles, his eyes are already glossy with lust.

I grab hold of his thigh and push his knee toward his head. "Hold this," I demand, kissing my way down his neck. He obliges me, grabbing the back of his knee and holding it in place. "Perfect," I hiss, using my free hand to trace down his silky smooth skin to his ass. My hand bumps his sack, and he lets out a mewling sound.

Slowing my movements, not wanting him to cum before he's ready for me, I gently trace his hole. I can feel the tight ring of muscles tensing under my finger. Instead of pressing in directly, I tease the sensitive hole, swiping around and over until his body is quaking under mine.

"Mike, stop teasing me," Dylan whines. I glance down at my needy man smirking. I know how he likes to play with his hole.

"Do you have lube?"

"In the drawer." He pants.

I give him a quick kiss before leaning over and grabbing the bottle from the drawer. My cock slides over his stomach, leaving a trail of pre cum in its wake. I snap open the lid, coating my fingers in the liquid before closing it and laying it next to us. I press my slick finger into his tight entrance and gently sink into his heat. I slowly allow his tight ring to soften around my thick finger before pushing up to my knuckle.

Dylan lets out a little gasp as my finger grazes over his prostate.

"Does that feel good?" I ask huskily.

"Yes," he says right before I swipe over it again, causing his head to arch backwards.

Hungry for more, I slide one more finger inside, and he tosses his head back and forth. "It's so full." He moans.

"Baby, it's only two fingers, and you know my cock is thicker than three?" I nip at his shoulder while driving my fingers into him, slow and steady, loosening him more and more as he loses himself in the pleasure.

My cock throbs, and I can't seem to get enough of him. The more he writhes beneath me, murmuring nonsensical words, the harder it is to keep control of my burning desire. My eyes land on his pink lips. He's like a sweet, decadent dessert laid out before me. I bite my way up the back of his exposed thigh until I'm hovering over him.

"Dylan," I need to see his eyes. "Look at me."

He tries his best to open his heavy lids. A growl makes its way up my throat. It's a heady feeling knowing that I'm the one who's making him feel good.