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Fairyville (Fairyville #1) Page 20
Author: Emma Holly

"Be quick," Alex said. "I'm not in the mood to wait."

"Are you ever?" Bryan asked rhetorically.

He sat up to make short work of freeing Alex from his business shirt, then gave in to temptation to lick his ni**les. They were pink and flat but sharpened at the first wet touch, his velvety skin taking on a sudden taste of sweat. Alex's arms came around his shoulders, tight and hard. For just long enough to make Bryan's heart skip, Alex clutched him close, like what he needed from Bryan was more than sex.

Then Bryan bit the nipple he'd been licking, and Alex's fingers dug into his back.

Oh, yeah, he thought. You like to got it as rough as you give.

Encouraged to test his limits, Bryan shifted to the meat of Alex's pectoral muscle and nipped that. Alex jerked, sucked in air, then let it out as a moan. Adrenaline flooded Bryan, aching along his skin. He knew as surely as he'd known Alex wanted him in the car that this encounter wasn't going to go slow.

"The rest," Alex demanded on a rasping breath, as if they'd been engaged in foreplay longer than two minutes. "Take off the rest."

Getting their clothes off was like a battle, with each wanting the other na**d so he could examine every part that came into view. Bryan couldn't get over the perfection of Alex's skin—so addictively smooth Bryan simply couldn't keep his hands in one place. He didn't deliberately get in Alex's way, but Alex had to fight him to keep up.

For once, Bryan had an edge over his partner. His one sport in high school had been wrestling, and he hadn't forgotten how to maneuver. Used to being in charge physically, Alex lost his patience when both were down to their briefs. Bryan had squirmed down to kiss his knees and knead his calves, putting him temporarily out of reach.

"Enough," Alex said, using sheer strength rather than technique to pull Bryan up him full length.

Bryan couldn't claim to be sorry. The bed had what he thought of as granny covers—chenille, he thought it was called. The stuff was nubbly, and when Alex hauled him up it, the texture felt delicious against his skin. As soon as Alex had them level and was able to run his own hands over Bryan, they writhed together like teenagers, their pricks bumping and rubbing through the cotton of their underwear.

It was difficult to say which one of them was more eager.

Images flashed through Bryan's mind of the first time he'd "experimented" with another boy. The forbidden thrill of it had been piercing, the sense that being with another male was what his body had been born for. For reasons he couldn't have defended even if he'd wanted to, the idea that Alex didn't always do it with men made his fervor for doing it with Bryan even sexier.

This was probably the closest Bryan would ever come to sleeping with a straight man.

He groaned at the power of that particular fantasy—which was enough to crash Alex through the last of his ability to hold off.

"The lube and rubbers are in the bathroom," he said, his h*ps grinding against Bryan's with astounding force. "But I am so not moving from this bed until I come."

"Not a problem," Bryan assured him, almost as raggedly. "There are more things than f**king that I want to do with you."

Happy to demonstrate, Bryan shoved his hand down Alex's briefs, finding him hot and full and long. Alex's breath hissed inward a second before he returned the favor. If Bryan's hand felt half as good as Alex's, Bryan understood why the other man shuddered hard. One of Alex's thighs jerked between his, the hairy muscle pressing his balls. Bryan's briefs were bunched around his testicles, holding up their fullness like a sling. His shaft was throbbing in the open air. The sensation of Alex fisting it made his own hand tighten on what it held.

"Yes," Alex urged, his leg hooking behind Bryan's to lever them closer. "Rub me against your belly. Rub my dick next to yours."

Bryan grunted and shifted his body until their pricks were perfectly aligned. The technique of rubbing head and shaft together like boy scouts starting a fire was one he'd known well once upon a time, a throwback to the only sex he'd had the nerve to try as an eighteen-year-old. Revisiting his old standby pushed his buttons enough to need to bite his lip for control. Boy, did Alex know how to crank him up, if only by accident.

Fortunately, Alex was just as ready to rock. They squirmed their cocks up and down, slightly crosswise so that the best bits got plenty of pressure, each alternating directions in short, rough thrusts. All that smoothed the increasing friction was the sweat and pre-ejaculate dripping down their skin.

The closeness of their heights was perfect for what they were doing, maybe too perfect. The position was more intimate than Bryan was used to, especially since Alex didn't seem to know the meaning of self-consciousness. Once he got going, he threw himself into sex, as if the thought of being shy about going straight for what he wanted was foreign. He didn't seem to care who was what size or where they touched each other, didn't seem to mind what sounds their bodies were making, or want to ask permission to go as hard as he could. Not quite as unbuttoned, Bryan buried his face in Alex's shoulder, rather than expose how much he wanted him back. This, of course, meant he heard every catch of Alex's breathing, every groan of pleasure and half-swallowed cry.

The noises Bryan was making were a little too embarrassing to describe—unless he wanted to admit he could whimper.

When the noises started coming faster, Alex clamped his free hand over Bryan's buttock. His hold was so determined Bryan was pretty sure his palm was going to leave a mark. The way their other hands were trapped between their frantically rubbing pricks was a mixture of inconvenience and ecstatic pain. The bones of their fingers were too hard to be comfortable, considering the force they were using, but the edge of hurt didn't slow either down. Bryan might not have been at ease with meeting Alex's eyes, but he sure as hell was good with what was happening. Alex was lost to pleasure and controlling the proceedings at the same time. The combination was enough to bring a fresh flow of pre-come spilling over Bryan's knob.

Alex curled his thumb over the brimming hole. "Do this to me," he ordered, the directive like sandpaper. "Feel me come."

Bryan made a low, hungry sound he couldn't have held back to save any amount of pride. Urgency swelled inside him, pressure and tropic heat. He fumbled to get his thumb positioned like Alex's. The tip of Alex's c**k was wet with arousal. As Bryan pressed, its slipperiness increased. That one small change was a surge of lightning whipping through his groin—and maybe Alex's as well. A second later, both were groaning, their seed squeezing out against the pads of thumbs that ground down as hard as they could and couldn't possibly have kept the stuff dammed up.

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