He wrinkles his nose, then buries his head in my chest. “I like it when you call me that.”
“Then I'll keep doing it.”
“What’s your stance on coffee?” he asks, his voice muffled.
“I’m committed to making sure you never run out.”
“Good man.”
I pick him up, and he grins, happily bare-assed in my arms as I take him back to bed. Pushing him down on the mattress, I take a moment to admire my Army Ranger T-shirt on him.
“Quite the Winnie the Pooh moment you’ve got going on here, Mads,” I say, palming his butt.
He turns over and wiggles said butt at me. “Yeah? I bet you like that, you perv.”
Warmth and humor flood my chest, and I chuckle, leaning down to bite the soft flesh. He moans, so responsive, and I flip him over on a yelp.
“Why, Mr. Edgerton, whatever are you going to do with me?” He bats his eyes and pulls the shirt down low before slowly dragging it up, revealing a hard cock arcing toward his belly.
I manhandle him to the middle of the bed, then position myself between his thighs, draping his legs over my shoulders. My T-shirt, enormous on him, slides back, revealing dark nipples and pretty brown skin.
Our eyes catch and, yes, we’re having fun, but I love that there’s more to it. Captured by each other’s gazes, we exchange words of love in an entirely silent conversation. Dropping his legs from my shoulders, he pulls forward, and I meet him in a kiss, sinking down on top of him as I push my tongue past his lips, plundering and searching his mouth.
He kisses me back with equal passion, wrapping his legs around me, sucking my tongue deeper, and stopping to press gentle kisses on my eyelids, cheek, and jaw.
We’re not even rutting against each other, not really. I’m not trying to get off with him. I’m trying to be a part of him. I pull back to find tears swimming in his bottomless brown eyes, and I startle to find a leaky situation with my eyes as well.
“This is the good stuff, isn’t it?” I ask, my voice creaking.
His blinding smile is all I can see. “It is,” he says with full conviction. “I’ve never…” His voice trails off and he lifts a shoulder, unable to complete the sentence.
“Me either.”
We laugh at each other, and sure, maybe we’re being sappy, but it’s more than that. I would give my life for this man, but I would also live for him, and that is something I’ve never felt before.
He makes me feel like I could take on the world.
After exploring his mouth for a few more moments, I map a path down his body with my lips, eager to taste every bit of him. I inhale deeply at the bits of him that give off the most scent: his neck, his armpits, his groin, his taint.
Mads’ ticklish giggles turn to groans with each new spot, and by the time I nuzzle into his pubic hair, his cock is straining, pearly precum crowning the head.
I savor the precum, then swallow him down, sucking hard as I thumb his sensitive nipples. He starts off delicately running his fingers through my hair, but in short order, he's gripping my hair, fucking up into my mouth on a tortured moan.
“Coming,” he whispers, his voice rough and broken.
He fills my mouth, and I sit up, keeping his legs over my shoulders. Spreading his cheeks, I dribble his cum on his hole and smear it around. He’s still a little slack from last night, so I press both thumbs inside and drool the rest of his cum into his hole.
“Why is that so fucking hot?” he asks, throwing his arm across his eyes, panting for me.
Letting his legs fall to the crooks of my elbows, I lower him enough to sink into him. He whimpers as I plunder every bit of his body.
“Are you still sore from last night?” I ask, slow-thrusting into him.
He nods sleepily, a devilish smile playing on his lips. “So perfectly sore,” he says, untangling his legs from my arms to wrap them around my waist.
I growl, speeding up my thrusts, unable and unwilling to slow down. I fall forward to my hands, leaning in for a cum-stained kiss, and he tightens his grip on my body, urging me on with mind-altering hip thrusts.
My skin is electrified as the orgasm spins up in my lower belly and his wandering hands layer on pleasure after pleasure. As I go over the edge, he grips me tight and whispers in my ear, “I love you, Anthony.”