“Come on. I promise I’m not going to break.”
“You got somewhere you need to be? Some curfew I’m not aware of?” Another of those stern looks had Jacob rocking his hips, trying to get more contact where he needed it most.
“No, I’m here.”
“Good. Be here then. Quit rushing.” Linc punctuated his words with another hard kiss.
I’m afraid to slow down. The thought arrived before he could push it away. But it was true, he was afraid of what he might find lurking in the dark corners of his emotions if he truly gave himself over to this, let himself fully experience it. He didn’t slow down for much in life, and somehow he knew that sinking into Linc might do him in.
But Linc didn’t seem willing to accept anything less, kissing him with an almost lazy regard, leisurely exploring his mouth while he worked his finger deeper. He waited until Jacob was panting and breathless before he added more. Every time Jacob tried to push the pace, chasing the kiss, fucking back onto his fingers, Linc slowed down more, to the point that Jacob would be pissed if it all wasn’t so damn sweet, every kiss almost drugging. So damn good.
And at a certain point, he simply stopped fighting, went from clutching at Linc to stroking his arms and back, wallowing in the warmth of his bulk above him. He stopped trying to control the kisses and let Linc have his way because little in his life had been this good. When Linc finally connected with his gland, electric waves of pleasure had him moaning, eyes squishing shut.
“That’s it.” Linc’s words were hot in his ear. “God, you are something else when you finally let yourself take your foot off the gas for a damn minute. Fuck. Look at you.”
Jacob was actually a little glad there wasn’t a mirror, not sure if he wanted to see his desperation—or his bliss.
“Now?” he asked, voice fuzzy like he’d pounded back some shots of Jack. “You proved your point. Slow doesn’t suck.”
“Yeah. It’s good.” Linc’s eyes were glassy, and maybe he was closer to losing control than it seemed because he rolled away to take care of the condom. He was overly generous with the lube, and it was touching, the way he was so reluctant to cause Jacob discomfort. Which was funny because as far as Jacob had figured out that was what fucking was all about—uncomfortable fullness, a deep burn, and it could feel decent especially if the pressure lined up with his spot, but that was far rarer than porn made it seem. The closeness could be nice if it was with someone he liked as well as the accompanying adrenaline rush, but there was a reason he didn’t do this very often.
Rolling him to his side, Linc pushed in from behind him, and as his body tensed up again, he worried that Linc was about to be disappointed. All those efforts to get him to relax and same predictable outcome. But maybe that was for the best. It took away the mystique and the longing and reminded him that this was fucking, not transcendental poetry.
“You can go,” he gritted out, trying to not let on how intense the stretch was.
“Shh. Slow. Remember?” Linc kissed his neck and stroked his torso as he rocked in, slow and steady. The first couple of shallow strokes burned, but then Linc shifted, some minute adjustment to the angle and—
“Fuck. That.” Okay, not poetry, but damn close. It might be fleeting, but his body lit up like a scoreboard, and his dick took renewed interest in the proceedings.
“Yeah? Better?” Linc repeated the thrust, and as things turned out, he was some sort of fucking savant because he did it again and again, finding the exact pressure needed against his gland to have Jacob moaning.
“Fuck, yes. More.” He pushed back, trying to get more, totally willing to reconsider his opinions on fucking if he got to come sometime in the next decade.
Trying to make that happen, he reached for his cock, but Linc beat him to it, hooking one arm around his chest, plastering them together as he stroked Jacob in perfect rhythm with his strokes. Slow but devastating, until it felt like he was cracking from the inside out, little fissures at first, then big hits of emotion and pleasure until he was legit falling apart, broken moans and whimpers and wordless pleas.
He wasn’t sure whether he was begging to come or begging it to never end. Maybe both. All he knew was that he had nothing left to hold back, giving everything to this moment, everything to Linc, even the things he’d tried so hard to hold back. No more rushing away from his feelings, instead drowning in them, every stroke a fresh wave of sensation that went far beyond the physical.