7. Cubby Holes

SEVEN

Cubby Holes

L uca reached for his own button-fly, the strain of his girth and the temptation of even more pleasure now unbearable. He had to free himself from the denim prison. He had to release his aching bulge and give the beautiful bear the honey that he was so thirsty to lap up.

But before he could even unsnap a single restraint, Artair stopped him, guiding both of Luca's wrists into the small of his back, holding them firmly in place.

"Not yet," Artair growled, so pleased with his dominance that Luca yearned to break free and make Artair gag on his stiffness.

Instead, he endured the delicate moments of Artair licking his shaft, feeling the pale warmth of his tongue, infuriatingly dulled by the fabric. Involuntarily, Luca thrust forward against his lips. Wanting more. Craving that direct contact.

Artair paused by Luca's hipbone, where the tip of his cock was pressed hard against the brass studs of his jeans. Slowly, he took a long inhale of Luca—sticky and sweet and stinking of sex .

Luca twitched and let out involuntary moans at that. At the way every movement of the man's mouth rolled his sheathed foreskin around in his slick underwear. It was alluring and infuriating all at once. "You, fuck, you weren't kidding about wanting to take your time."

Artair proved how much he wasn't kidding by doing this motion again and again, over and over. Licking slow up Luca's shaft. Pausing at his cock head. Relishing as each swipe caused Luca's frustration to build.

Luca endured the torment as long as he could, before finally fighting back against the restraint around his wrists. But even in his standing position, Luca was no match for Artair's wild-strengthened grip. The bear refused him the release and slowed his attention on Luca's cock as punishment for trying.

"No!" Luca whined, grinding his hips forward to recapture the wetness. The teasing had made him too hard to handle the absence. The ache in his cock was unbearable now. "Please don't stop!"

"Then say the safe word."

Luca contemplated that. How one word could make all the torment stop. And he had no interest in that, no matter how frustrating this felt.

Because he'd never been so fucking hard in his life.

Artair beamed at his desperation. At the way he had Luca completely under control. He moved his mouth to the well-stitched corner of Luca's fly, gripping it between his teeth. "Promise you'll be good?" he said, slightly muffled.

Luca nodded vigorously. In that moment he would have done or said anything for Artair to continue his attention.

Artair grinned through a mouthful of indigo weave.

And then he tugged it forward .

The first button burst open with a loud pop. Luca felt the restrained blood surge into his cock. " Fuck ."

The second soon followed, taut until the last moment.

The third came free easier. But Artair wasn't done with the steaming, man-scented cave that he'd opened. Like a dog playing tug-of war, Artair managed to drag the whole top of the jeans down, bunching around Luca's thick upper thighs.

His bright orange briefs were drenched with slick—half his own copious precum, half the seeped-through spit from Artair's attention.

The sudden release of pressure brought its own torment. Luca's veins throbbed now, so bulging he could see them snaking through the cotton. There was only a tiny strip of fabric separating him from bliss.

With his free hand, Artair took Luca's full balls, rolling them gently in the cotton. "Should I do the same thing with just the briefs on? You can go another twenty minutes, right?"

Luca said nothing. The deep rise in heat from his massaged balls was spiking his sexual frustration to the point of madness.

He hadn't expected this—that the external cuddle cub secretly housed a wolf in heat. One that loved tormenting his conquests. Not in dominance. Not in humiliation. But in the thrill of making Luca pent up and blue-balled and wanting to scream for Artair's talents.

And inside, Luca was screaming.

Tear them off!

Take me in your mouth!

Please, Artair. Just do it!

As if sensing Luca couldn't handle any more teasing of his seven-inch slab, Artair relented.

However, it wasn't in the way that Luca had expected .

Rather than pull down his straining underwear at the front, Artair ran a lazy hand between Luca's thighs, the fingertips delicately grazing underneath the cloth, finding the soft and sensitive curves between his balls and ass.

Luca's whole body shook at that, at the opening of a new front in the battle of pleasure. Artair was back to teasing, gently sliding his fingers along the path toward Luca's hole but refusing to complete the journey—instead sending his hand across Luca's thick ass cheeks, taking in the incredible stock that filled to bursting every pair of shorts he'd ever worn.

Artair lingered in that exploration, feeling the soft velvet and immense bulk. His own sweatpants had a growing patch of wet charcoal against the light gray. It had been almost half an hour now, and Artair hadn't touched himself once. Despite that, he hadn't softened an inch, straining hard and loving every second of his task.

There was something unbelievably hot in that. In how Artair was such a full-balled, filthy-minded fucker.

"You've got such an amazing ass," Artair growled, squeezing his strong knuckles at the combination of muscle and curvaceous softness.

"And what do you want to do with it?" Luca said, his breath hot enough to set off the fire alarm.

For the first time, there was a little impatience in Artair now. A little more urgency in his caress. Like he'd suddenly remembered that he could do whatever he wanted to Luca.

"Everything," Artair breathed. "Fucking everything ."

That made Luca's cock leak even more heavily, the clear drip seeping through the fabric and running down his shaft. It was the thrill of realizing that his big ass was making Artair more desperate to speed things up. Making him eager to slide his tongue and fingers and cock into Luca's tight hole.

Luca took advantage of Artair's distraction to tug his hands free of the wrist lock. Artair was so transfixed by Luca's thickness that he barely even seemed to notice. Artair's expression was somewhere between worship and disbelief. That all this thickness was his—to play with, to tease, to taste.

To taste . . .

Luca grinned as he formed a naughty plan. It was something he loved—both giving and receiving. And the way Artair was looking at him made Luca certain that he'd love it too.

Finally taking a little command, Luca swiveled his hips.

Slowly.

Sensually.

Like a belly dancer allowing his admirers to drink in every sultry sway and swell of his body.

And Artair drank it in. Running fingertips over every inch of the umber god before him. Trailing his thumbs along the lower curves of Luca's ass, at the point where the underwear met the soft skin.

Luca exhaled contentedly at that. At the man who adored every inch of his body, just as it was. Who thought him hotter because he looked this way, sweet and swelling like a summer cherry.

His ass swung like a hypnotist's pocket watch, before finally settling in full view of Artair—huge and full.

Facing away now, Luca hooked his thumbs into his own underwear, the elastic warm and slightly wet from all the pent-up urge beneath. As slowly as Luca could manage, he finally freed himself from the cotton. Past his bulging thighs. Down his knees. Before slowly and sensually stepping out of them, his feet soft and pointed as he did so.

Luca's cock slapped against his belly, still hard as timber and sticky with excitement. But that wasn't what Artair was focused on. His attention was firmly on the thick cheeks that were now just inches from his face.

Over his shoulder, Luca smiled at Artair's wide-eyed stare. At the expression like he'd won the lottery.

At this point, there were all sorts of terrible porno phrases that Luca could've said.

Hungry for dessert? was one of them.

Fancy a taste of my honey pot, daddy bear? was another.

But neither was as hot or as unexpected as simply taking each cheek in hand and slowly parting his furry butt, revealing his tight, sensitive little hole to the hungry-eyed beast that yearned to consume him.

"Holy fuc—" Artair interrupted himself mid-word by diving tongue-first between Luca's cheeks.

The younger cub yelped at the sudden intrusion, warm and wet and suddenly absent the prior slowness. There were no gentle kisses along his cheeks. No playful flicks of tongue-tip around the perimeter.

Because exposing himself like that wasn't an invitation for teasing.

It was an invitation for fucking .

And Artair didn't need to be told twice.

Luca was shoved against the map table, his legs forced into a wider splay, as Artair dipped his tongue as deep as he could into Luca's tight ring.

Luca gripped the stand for stability at the incredible sensation—at the contact he'd yearned for all this time. Artair's tongue was strong and certain, opening him up with long, wet strokes. The bigger man was growling as he did so, his tongue flicks hasty and hungry and so fucking happy .

Just when he thought the slick sensation was as much as Artair could give him, the man found new depth, pulling his cheeks apart even wider and pushing his tactile muscle past the tightest of his barriers.

Artair moaned as much as Luca, which only drove more fire into their bellies. There was something so naughty and hot about giving yourself away like this. Allowing someone to do something so intimate. Of having someone so hot wanting to do it to you.

And in this moment, there was something even hotter about knowing that it was Artair doing it. The big dork that he'd fantasized about for weeks, with his tongue dancing over Luca's little hole. The fact that this sweet guy was getting off on his ass. Was loving the pleasure he was giving him . Would rather nothing else right now than drive him wild.

As the deep tongue strokes made Luca's eyes roll back in a trance, he couldn't help wondering what would come next. Not in impatience, but longing. The knowledge that this attention was just the foreplay to the main event. The moment this big, beautiful man would take him completely. Would slide that thick bear cock inside him and give him the fuck of a lifetime.

Luca moved his hips back involuntarily at the silky attention, his cock squeezed between his belly and the fire finder. His slick foreskin rolled back with each buck of his waist, revealing his glistening, brick-pink glands.

Both sides of him were hit with heat and harmony. One was the high, bright, gasp-inducing sensation in his ass, promising all that would soon come his way. The other was the low rumble of his dick against the plinth, aching and slippery and yearning for release.

Luca lost track of how long Artair was focused on his hole—one of the joys of rimming was when the top could do it for so long and with such investment that time and space seemed to blur into slippery sensation. Sensations like the man's beard, soft but still rubbing strong in his most sensitive areas.

That only made it hotter—just like the dense-haired forearms that brushed his thighs. Just like the rough fingers prying apart his ass.

Manly.

Strong.

Urgent.

When Artair finally came up for air, Luca was dazed. His dick was still as hard as the start, with great clear drips running down the pillar in messy streams.

When he did finally blink his way back into the room, he had to stifle a laugh. Artair's beard was matted heavily with spit—unavoidable with cheeks as round as Luca's and an enthusiasm as strong as Artair's. His lips were slicked like he was wearing gloss. His hair was messed from the sweat. And his face was almost ketchup-red from the exertion.

And yet, despite it being the opposite of a carefully crafted porno scene, where every light and strand of hair was perfectly in place, there was something in that grin and those eyes—proud and perky and just so glad to be there, like a puppy with a new plaything.

It was real and raw.

No pretense. No posturing. No posing.

Just playfulness.

Just pleasure.

"What?" said Artair. "Have I got something on my face?"

"Not at all. We should get some pictures."

"Well, it wouldn't be a proper photo without a hot stud on my lips. Come here, cutie, gimmie a kiss! "

Luca squealed as Artair tried to kiss him from behind, the red beard leaving a trail of slick along the back of his neck.

After a half nuzzle, half scrub of the excess spit onto the back of Luca's shirt, he relented and returned the kiss, both sniggering.

"Idiot," said Luca.

"Come on," said Artair, beaming. "You love it."

The bigger man slid a hand against Luca's chest as their tongues entwined, holding him tight. Luca melted into the sheer strength of his grip and the bulk of his arm. Into the heft of the chest and belly pressing down against his back. Taking him in. Wrapping him in sweaty, manly warmth.

The embrace was as welcoming as hot chocolate on a cold winter evening.

But that tender moment didn't last long, given the slab that was soon poking against Luca's ass. And it was made even more lurid when Artair's hand trailed down Luca's belly, finally finding his aching cock.

Luca inhaled sharply, his half-closed eyes slamming open as the flat of Artair's thumb slid beneath his slick foreskin.

The groan came low from Luca, his cock aching for more of the gooey sensation. After all the expert teasing, without showing his dick any direct attention, Artair's grip was such a quick contrast that it set Luca's whole body on fire.

Artair's grin got even wider at his reaction.

"Oh, fuck," Luca whispered, shaking against Artair's embrace as his foreskin was rolled back. The sweet sensation bounced from his cock head to his balls and up into his stomach. A rumble of bliss and impatience. A mainline cable of heat to his prostate, now begging for some direct attention. "You're, oh God , you're so good at that! "

"How could I not be? When you're so wet for me," Artair whispered. "Do you always make this much?"

"Not this much," Luca said, shaking as Artair deliberately sped up his stroke while he was in the middle of speaking.

"So I should take it as a compliment?"

Luca looked back at him—so big and husky and so unbelievably good at what he was doing. "You have no fucking idea."

Artair leaned in and licked Luca's earlobe. His grip was drenched now. "I've got some idea."

Luca groaned at his expert tongue, once again finding just the right spot to make him hard and soft all at once. "Do you know what makes me even wetter?"

"Tell me!" Artair demanded, kissing him again. Harder this time. Encouraging his filthy mind. "It's so fucking hot."

Luca reached back and hooked his thumbs into Artair's sweats.

The ginger bear grunted approvingly—at the sexiness of a boy who just needed a cock in him. At the sexiness of the boy who needed his cock in him. "You can't wait for it, can you?"

Instead of responding, Luca pulled the sweats down, having to maneuver them over Artair's impossibly hard dick.

" Jesus ," Luca whispered, looking over his shoulder and marveling at Artair's sudden exposure.

"You like?" said Artair, biting back a sly grin. He slowly moved his hips, rubbing himself against Luca's cheeks.

Like didn't cover it. Artair had, quite simply, the prettiest cock that Luca had ever seen. Six-and-a-half inches and thick as a beer can. The shaft was perfectly smooth, transitioning from milky white to pastel pink at his high and tight circumcision. The head was bulbous and shiny and begging to be licked, wider than the shaft but still in stunning proportion.

And all of that was set against pure man. His ginger pubes were untrimmed and wild, encasing a set of big balls, heavy with lust. Even from here, Luca could smell the man underneath, musty and reeking of full nuts.

Artair increased his thrusting against Luca's ass cheeks, forcing the sensation of just how solid he was. "And what do want me to do with it, huh? Do you want me to slide it slowly between?—"

At that, Luca finally snapped.

He knew that Artair would happily tease him all night long. Take each step with aching slowness until dawn broke, delaying their climax, driving him wild for hours and hours, before finally giving him the deepest and most drawn-out release.

And at other times, he would have craved that. Demanded it, even.

But not now.

Not after the last hour.

Not after the last month .

Luca couldn't bear it anymore. He felt like a pot boiling past its lid, steaming and spitting and ready to burst.

And he needed that cock in him.

He needed Artair's cock in him.

And he needed it now.

Wrapping a hand around Artair's waist, Luca moved his own hips up, chasing the goal he'd had all night. In one smooth movement, Luca thrust his ass back, gripping Artair hard to stop him from pulling away.

The shining cock head met his spit-slicked hole—already slippery and stretched and ready to receive .

Luca let out a whimper as the greatest feeling in all of humanity filled his belly. The great mushroom head slid firm past his first ring, coming into direct and driving contact with his prostate.

He went cross-eyed at the gut-squirming sensation, so visceral and intense and so fucking spectacular . Artair was so fucking thick, so fucking big, that it was like a truck crashing into him. So massive, so girthy that his entrance was flooded with sensation—joy and discomfort and the feeling that he'd overcommitted all at once.

Artair's cock was so fucking much .

Artair's cock was so fucking full .

Still holding Artair in place, Luca gyrated his hips slightly, gasping loud and twitching hard and getting used to the incredible thickness of his first few inches. Artair had, by far, the fattest cock that Luca had ever taken. The sheer fullness of the thick tool, pulsing hard against his swollen spot, made new strands of precum drip and sway from his dick. Made his ass shake at just how fucking overwhelming it all was.

" Wazi fram gnah, " babbled Artair, shocked at Luca's sudden boldness. "Jesus! Luca! You... Fuck. Ohhh, God, you're so tight ."

Luca groaned gratefully—not just at the sticky sensations, but in his own ability to surprise his partner. It was everything he'd hoped for. Soon the room faded until there was only body heat and the sensation of the hard cock sliding slow into his ass.

And as much as he wanted Artair to slam him deep, he couldn't help but savor the intensity of this moment. Of the relief that was sweeping over him. At the brick hard broadsword that was making his eyes roll back and lose the ability to form sentences .

Artair made to stroke Luca's cock, to get him used to his sheer size and to ease the passage with his own pleasure. But Luca grabbed his wrist, pulling him away. Because the sensation was too much, too intense, too fucking good . The way that Artair's swollen cock head was paused at the perfect spot inside him, gliding across the half-inch of his prostate.

Back and forth.

Back and forth.

Back and forth.

The way Artair throbbed hard when Luca winced and moaned, like a punch to his pleasure spot, making him gasp and cry out even louder.

When that feeling was combined with the slick of his foreskin, the electric buzz of his own cock head became too much.

Because right now, Luca didn't know if he was about to cum or die.

After long minutes of this exquisite torture, Luca realized that he wasn't going to get used to this sensation. He wasn't going to relax into it until the height of the intensity faded.

This is just what it felt like to be fucked with a cock this thick. Like his world was ending and being created anew, over and over again.

"Please fuck me," he whispered at last. "No more teasing."

Artair shook his head, not in refusal, but in manic-grinned disbelief. This was every top's dream—a slutty little bottom that just wanted to get railed. Pounded. Slammed down. Who wasn't doing this out of obligation, but because they wanted it. Because they needed it hard and fast and deep.

"You want it like that , huh?" Artair snarled, slapping a thick palm on Luca's even thicker cheeks, making Luca's big ass bounce heavily in his grip .

Luca gasped again as Artair took control, sliding himself in deeper. The fullness became even more overwhelming. The stretch of his ring was incredible. The pace was so sudden that it made his thighs shake.

The sounds from Luca's steaming lips were unlike anything he'd ever made. Higher-pitched and sorrowful and screaming in lust, all at once.

Inch after joyful, agonizing inch, Artair slid himself in. Luca could barely breathe as it happened, his stomach hot and balls swelling.

Finally, Artair reached his full depth, his sweaty balls pressing against Luca's own. But before Luca could even catch his stuttering breath, Artair had drawn himself out again. Fully. All the way to the bulge of his cock head.

And then, mercilessly, Artair slammed himself back in, all the way to his nuts in one hard thrust.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Luca screamed, unable to process the sensations. The stretch and the depth and the way his body was being commanded. Consumed.

Luca's dick felt suddenly hot, the head straining bigger than he'd ever seen. He glanced down to see the involuntary squirt of precum—not a drip, but a full jet—blasting out as clear as warm rain. The pulse came from the potency of Altair's thrusts. At the realization that there was nothing separating their two bodies. Skin to skin. Connected like few men he'd ever been with before.

And now Luca was weeping. Not in pain, but in shocked bliss. In the sheer, overwhelming joy at just how amazing Artair's huge cock felt inside him. At how quickly the man had figured out exactly what Luca wanted. Exactly what he needed .

Artair fucked him like an angry man, hard and fast, but somehow not the incompetent thrashing of some college kid. This was the dominant, powerful pace of someone who knew exactly what they were doing with an ass. Exactly how they were making their partner feel. Exactly how to send Luca into bellows of joy.

In the haze of the heat, Luca thanked the universe for versatile men—those who loved topping as much as bottoming. Men who knew exactly what to do because they knew what made their own ass squeal.

And all that expertise was on display in Artair's thrusts. The way he moved his hips to ensure the longest slide of his shaft squeezed against Luca's tender spot. The way each withdrawal was slow and rhythmic, perfectly in time with Luca's heartbeat. The way he followed it up with a trust so hard it made Luca squeal.

Ba-dum. Slam!

Ba-dum. Slam!

Ba-dum. Slam!

The timing was visceral—as if Artair was trying to possess his body. To override his senses. To take his flesh and make all of Luca his plaything.

"Like that!" Luca wailed, as if silence might make Artair stop. "Please! Keep fucking me like that, Artair! Don't stop! Don't stop! Please don't fucking stop!"

"Yeah, say my fucking name!"

" Artair! " Luca screamed, obediently. "Please, fuck me just like that, Artair!"

"Right here?" Artair grunted, his breath heavy. He grabbed Luca's ass and made it bounce even harder against his balls. "You like it when a stranger finds you ass up like this, you little slut? Begging for a raw load in your fuck hole?"

Luca groaned hard at the unexpected filthiness, drifting off into the land of long-explored fantasy. Because somehow Artair just knew what that fantasy was—how he could send Luca into another plane of pleasure.

The way he could switch from sweet and caring to nasty and ferocious was volcanically hot. It was the perfect combination. The sexiest trait you could find in a man: a kitten in public and a hellcat in the bedroom.

Artair's left hand gabbed a fistful of Luca's shirt at his back. Balling it up tight. Dragging Luca up by the chest. Making it skintight and sweat-sticking around his bouncing chest.

He pulled hard on the fiber's tension, smashing Luca back onto his cock. Making him scream for more. For harder . For the pleasure to never stop.

His motion was rough. Urgent. Taking what he needed.

Like Luca was a stranger.

Like Luca meant nothing .

At the same time, Artair's right hand was intertwined with Luca's around the smaller man's chest, their fingers laced together like silk ribbons. With each peak of his thrust, Artair ran a thumb across Luca's own. Making sure he was okay. Making sure that every moan and twitch was exactly what Luca wanted.

His motion was sweet. Caring. Giving what was needed.

Like Luca was his lover.

Like Luca meant everything .

The heat of the duality—the slut and the sweetheart—boiled Luca's balls like nothing he'd ever felt before. Every urge in his body told him to grab himself. To finish himself off. To let the steaming seed free!

He tried to resist the fury that ran through his core. He tried to last as long as he could, so he didn't cum before Artair had finished.

In the end, it wasn't up to him.

As Artair's pounding grew faster, he trapped Luca's arms in a cross over his chest, making it impossible for Luca to touch himself.

And then, somehow, Artair found even more direct angles into his ass, bucking his hips in bouncing slams. Hitting Luca mercilessly in his prostate. Making Luca splutter in incomprehensible pleasure.

Again and again he slammed into Luca—not as some glancing blow, but head-on now. Direct. Smashing him so hard that Luca almost lost the power of speech.

Then came the strangest sensation that Luca had ever felt. It rose first in his stomach, hot and unfamiliar. It grew like fuel in a piston, firing fast, growing in a line of roaring V8s. It came next to his balls—a deep pressure, like a steaming espresso machine. By the time it reached his prostate, now victim to the relentless torture of Artair's nonstop pounds, it was like an oil geyser ready to burst from the earth.

Artair held Luca's arms tight against his chest, obviously sensing what was happening. Feeling Luca's conquered asshole spasm against his seismic girth.

Luca could barely breathe now.

The room was spinning.

When Luca spoke, it was broken words.

Please . . .

That . . .

Harder . . .

"Fuck yeah!" barked Artair at Luca's submission, twisting him around for a deep, trapped kiss, somehow finding new pounds of pace.

And among all of that unbearable pleasure, Artair's tongue was the final tipping point for Luca.

At the hunger of the man.

At the hunger for him .

Their mouths were entwined when the first jet of cum burst from Luca's cock, arcing huge and handsfree across the floor. Luca screamed and sucked in Artair's breath, losing all sense of time as the most overwhelming pleasure poured from him.

It was like nothing he'd ever experienced—the shots exploding out with such screaming force, such depth of desperation, that he almost collapsed under the weight of his own bliss.

But Artair didn't let up, thrusting even deeper. Holding him in place with powerful arms. Not stopping his thrusts for one fucking second.

Now the tides of their needs turned. Now Luca's ass propelled Artair with an urge to empty his big, slapping balls.

Luca broke the kiss and pushed his head back—Artair's beard and tongue once again meeting his ear.

"Cum in me!" Luca sobbed, the afterglow making his whole body wish that he could merge into the man behind him. Be taken in full. Be used and consumed and owned. "Please, Artair. Please! Give me your fucking load."

"Oh, fuck!" groaned Artair, spurred on by his eagerness. "You want it, Luca? You want my cum deep in your fucking guts?"

In this moment, there was nothing that Luca wanted more. And he did everything he could to show it, whispering filth into Artair's ear. Telling him how good he was. Thrusting his huge cheeks back to meet each slam. Saying his name—hot and angry and slamming their tongues together .

Artair!

Artair!

Artair!

With all that hunger, it was only a matter of moments before Artair was screaming out in a soul-searing orgasm.

The hot cum flooded Luca. The deep throbs were so big and heavy inside him that they stretched his ring to new widths, barely able to contain the force of his lover's load. The screams of Artair's bliss were so sheer , so joyful that it warmed Luca to his core—joined by each jet of cum that sprayed up his ass.

On and on it went.

Pulse after pent-up pulse.

Shake after shocked shake.

Whimper after willful whimper.

And then, in a slow slip alongside their panting breaths, the ferociousness was gone.

Artair collapsed against Luca's shoulders—sweat pouring off them both. Their breaths were barely gathered, gasping for air.

And then they both started laughing.

"You a nasty boy," whispered Artair, hissing the "S" on nasty and planting a row of soft kisses along Luca's upper back.

"And you aren't?" chuckled Luca, wiggling his ass against the still-rigid cock inside him.

Artair whistled at that. "Careful. Are you trying for round two already?"

Luca leaned into Artair's sweaty embrace. The warm fur of his chest was soft against Luca's back. "Don't worry," he laughed. "You don't have to pretend like you're ready to go agai?— "

The sudden twitch in Luca's ass made him jolt. Not only was Artair still as hard as the first time he'd taken his cock out, but he was also able to command a full throb.

The growl that Artair made was animal. Like he hadn't just feasted. "If you think I'm a one and done kind of guy, Luca, you've got a lot to learn."

The incredible girth was slippery as hell from the enormous load that Artair just dumped in him. And somehow, that warm stickiness took away all the catharsis of Luca's own release, replacing it with a guttural desire for more .

Luca clenched his ass, relishing Artair's gasp at the grip he could still command. "Then maybe you should teach me, Artair ?"

The stormy night settled around them.

Artair held him close below the bedsheets, with Luca fitting perfectly into the crook of Artair's belly and legs.

Where Luca had expected some kind of distance after they were done fucking—typical of the transactional nature of casual hook-ups—Artair seemed to get even more affectionate with Luca that evening. Laying kisses on his forehead. Poking him in the ribs and whispering we had seeex with that goofy fucking smile . Seemingly unable to talk to him throughout the evening without brushing gentle hands across his forearm or back.

And when it finally came time for bed, there was no awkwardness around where they would both sleep—no dance of whether they would come together or make a separate bed on the floor. Artair had jumped into the far side of the double bed and lifted the quilt, patting the mattress with a playful flutter of the eyebrows.

Now, Artair's big, strong arm was firm across Luca's chest. Fingers were wrapped softly around his shoulders, holding him close. A thumb brushed rhythmically against his collarbone. A beard made gentle circles on the back of his neck.

"Thanks for making me stay," said Artair, as Bowie padded around their feet, curling up in the space behind Artair's knees.

"Thanks for staying," whispered Luca, as the rain drummed hard against the window—a cold contrast that made the warmth of the embrace glow brighter.

And then, exhausted and content and more safe than he'd ever felt before, Luca drifted into dreams.