My Home Is With You [LGBT+]

Twenty Two

WITH HIS HANDS on my hips, he maneuvers me so that I lay on the sofa.  I stare up at him through hazy eyes before he dips down and kisses me fervently.

I drag my nails across his back as our shared kisses drag on and deepens.

His cock settled inside my ass; skin stretched around it.

"Please daddy," I beg, intentionally tightening around his length.

He worships every scar and mark left on my body from that horrible night of the fire.

"Daddy," I choke out.

"It's okay baby boy, daddy's got you," he assures, "my little minx."

Max starts gentle, like he's holding back.  He pulls out only to push back inside, slow and steady.  His cock occasionally hitting that little spot inside.

"Fuck," I curse.

"Relax baby," he whispers.

"So big, daddy," I gasp.

"Tight, baby boy, you're so tight," he hisses, thrusting again and again.

A litany of pleasure falls from my lips, "More, faster, please, harder."

He gives me what I want.

Pleasures me and takes me to new heights.

Faster.

Harder.

More.

Give and take.

He's gentle with a punishing pace.

Thick cock dragging along my insides.

And he hits something.

It's different.

It aches in a weirder way.

It makes my toes curl, causes my back to arch into each thrust as my hands on his biceps tighten.

My nails dig into his skin and leave behind little red crescents.

"Ma-Max!"

His brow is furrowed, sweat beading down his face and covering his body like a blanket.

There's a look of concentration with concern swirling in his blue eyes.

I gasp.

I can't tear my eyes away from his.

His thrusts become erratic as he holds my gaze.

He fucks into me so good, so hard and fast.

I can't think properly.

Only him.

There has only been him.

Another harsh thrust and my breath hitches as I orgasm.

My legs settled on his hips, wrapped around him only to drag him deeper.  Max's name on my lips like a sinful prayer.

He tenses and buries himself even deeper, slowing his thrusts into gentle rutting of his hips.

I swallow thickly and brush his mussed hair from his face.  He looks down at me with that dorky smile of his and I fall a little more.

"You look beautiful."

My warm cheeks heat up more at the sweet compliment.  All I can do is hum in thanks for his soft-spoken words.  My throat too sore from screaming his name.

"We should probably move," he comments thoughtfully, "get you comfortable in bed."

The sound of the bed sounds heavenly.