As if he’d been doing it for years, Apollo deftly reached over to the nightstand and extracted Dylan’s lube from the top drawer while kissing him soundly. Slick fingers returned to torment his ass. “This what you want? Need this?”
“Mmm.” Dylan’s eyes drifted shut, and he forgot all the reasons he’d been reluctant to do this in the past as Apollo teased the tip of his finger in.
“God, you’re tight. You have done this before, right?” Apollo’s laugh said he wasn’t truly worried, but his eyes were wary.
“Uh-huh. Not a virgin.” Their eyes met, and for a second Dylan was a teenager again, dreaming about Apollo being his first, playing with his own fingers. He’d taken care of the virgin bit senior year with Tyler Dawson, but he’d never stopped fantasizing. Some dreams do come true.
Apollo’s blunt fingertip penetrated him fully, and he was rather grateful to ol’ Tyler for teaching him how to relax because nothing on Apollo was tiny, not even his index finger. Apollo’s free hand dragged Dylan down for another kiss, positioning them so that Dylan was riding back on Apollo’s fingers while Apollo just as surely fucked his mouth, owning Dylan with lips and tongue and delving fingers.
“Want to fuck you like this, you riding me. Want to watch you fly.”
Right then Dylan almost believed he could take flight, that the beating inside his chest might give birth to wings with which to ride out these sensations. “Yeah. Want that too.”
Apollo withdrew his tortuous fingers, maneuvering Dylan until—
“Condom.” Dylan scrambled for one he’d tucked in his pants pocket, trying to not think about how much he’d like to take Apollo bare, give him that.
“Right. God, you make me crazy.” Apollo took care of the condom, then pulled Dylan back on top of him.
“This is the best for your back, right?” Dylan tried to be cautious as he settled his weight on his knees.
“Fuck my back.” Apollo laugh was a dry bark. “I want it like this because I want to see your face as you take my cock.” Dylan’s whole body clenched at that suggestion. “And I want to watch you work in the mirror. So fucking hot.”
“Fair enough.” Dylan grasped for the last shreds of his composure before positioning himself over Apollo’s cock. Apollo held the base with one hand, his other hand going to Dylan’s hip.
Despite saying that Dylan would do the work, Apollo quickly made it clear that he was the one really in charge of this show, hand controlling the speed of Dylan’s descent.
“Oh. Oh fuck.” Dylan panted as his muscles stretched and burned. Fuck. It had been a long time, and Apollo was a fucking eighteen-wheeler compared to the compact pickups Dylan usually played with. But at the same time, it also felt so fucking good and right. Like he’d been waiting years to be filled like this.
He started rocking, trying to get more, chasing the licks of pleasure against that spot deep inside him. He wanted this, wanted to go so fast, but Apollo’s hands stayed him. “Slow.”
“Sadist.” Dylan tried to quicken his pace anyway, but Apollo’s grip was just shy of punishing, limiting his range of motion. And fuck if Dylan’s treacherous cock didn’t twitch at that denial, leak at how good it felt to cede control to Apollo, let Apollo drive the fuck.
Apollo kept him to an agonizingly slow slide, each motion an exaggerated rush of pleasure. Every so often, Apollo’s eyes drifted off Dylan’s face toward the mirror. And it should have felt weird, being watched like this, but instead it made his spine undulate, made him want to preen. Yes. Yes, it was so good, having all Apollo’s attention focused right on him. On them. On this.
And man, that gaze was so intent, so potent. It made Dylan feel like both god and supplicant in the same instant. His hand snaked toward his cock, both wanting to add to the show and because he might die if he didn’t get some relief.
“Nope.” Apollo batted his hand away. “Just feel. Don’t rush it.”
“Glaciers rush faster than you,” Dylan complained, bucking against Apollo’s grasp, and hell, it felt so damn good, meeting all that strength.
“Trust me. I’ll get you there.”
Scary thing was that Dylan really did trust this man—not just with the fuck or his body but with everything. His pulse galloped far faster than his body, a steady drumbeat of terror at how much he was surrendering.
“Fuck,” he moaned as the sensations built, seeking some unobtainable peak, then ebbing. “I need it.”
“I know,” Apollo soothed. “Gonna be so good for you.”
“Mmm.” Dylan was almost beyond words. “Untouched...not...one of...my tricks.”
“Ha.” Oh Apollo was a wicked, wicked man, with all those promises in his dark eyes. “We’ll see.”
They kept Apollo’s glacial pace, each stroke lighting Dylan up, getting him both closer and further and further away. Finally, when Dylan was almost weeping with all of it, Apollo’s hand left his hip, going to Dylan’s stomach, resting right at the base of his cock. Not stroking or gripping, just pressing, and fuck...that pressure...