Free Get What You Need by Jeanette Grey

eyes and let Greg pull his hand from his body, choking at the sudden ache of emptiness. “Gentle,” Greg murmured, and he pushed Marsh’s fingers back into himself once, painfully slow.
    “C’mon, please—”
    And Marsh didn’t beg. Didn’t beg for anything or anyone, not out loud.
    Greg brushed soft lips over Marsh’s, a too-gentle press of tongue. “Shh,” he said, touching Marsh’s face. “I’ll give you what you need.”
    With that, he pulled Marsh’s hand free again, and this time it wasn’t a tease. It was to press his cock into Marsh’s palm. Marsh stifled a shudder and grasped that flesh, spreading the lube around. Cool liquid poured over the whole affair, and everything went perfect and easy. Greg took his own wet fingers to Marsh’s opening, and that shouldn’t feel so much better, but it did. He took two quick strokes, dipping in and out of Marsh’s body, as he kissed him full and smooth, making throaty noises as he sucked on Marsh’s tongue.
    Seeming satisfied Marsh hadn’t been lying about being stretched and slick, Greg pulled his hand away. Pulled his cock from Marsh’s grip.
    And it didn’t make any sense how Greg entwined their fingers, giving Marsh something to hold on to as he settled himself between his legs. He lined himself up, lips hovering just above Marsh’s, breath a warm wash of air. Marsh stared up into gorgeous eyes, and maybe he did beg. If it was this good, he’d beg all day.
    “Greg. Please.”
    Greg’s throat clicked, and without another moment’s hesitation, he pressed forward.
    Marsh’s toes curled, his whole body going rigid at that pressure. His body opened for it, though. He squeezed hard at Greg’s knuckles, and with his other hand, scrambled for purchase, tugged at hip and arm and shoulder, grasped at anything he could hold on to.
    When Greg was all the way inside, he pressed his forehead to Marsh’s temple, and made a sound that was so sexy Marsh almost lost it right there. “So… God, Marsh…”
    “Yeah,” Marsh managed to grunt out. Fuck, he felt full—bright and needy and perfect and full .
    And he might not ever get what he wanted, but this was something.
    Greg leaned back, bracing himself with one arm and moving their joined hands so they rested on the mattress beside Marsh’s head. He took a deep breath like asking for permission and drew back. The second thrust inside was faster and rougher and so fucking fantastic. Marsh’s whole abdomen was tight, and Greg was this straining line of muscle, his jaw flexing with every new push in.
    He looked gorgeous and perfect and like he was really here. Really present and unleashed. And that was almost better than the fuck, getting to see all those inhibitions stripped away, just like Marsh had wanted. Marsh reached up to put his palm to the shivering line of Greg’s pulse, thumb scraping below his ear. “That’s it,” he murmured. “Let go. Give it to me.”
    “ Ngh .” Greg pushed even harder, even deeper. He finally pulled his hand free, leaving Marsh ungrounded and floating, and it was fine. More than fine.
    Greg fit his palm to the underside of Marsh’s thigh, moving him how he wanted him. He lifted up and touched inside Marsh’s knee, and the angle was too good, sparks shooting off with every press against Marsh’s prostate.
    And Marsh had to. He had to.
    He snuck a hand between their bodies and wrapped it around his cock and almost screamed.
    “Yeah, that’s it,” Greg echoed. He leaned in closer, near enough that Marsh could taste the sweat from his skin. “Wanna feel you come.”
    “Fuck—” And Marsh rode that edge for so long he thought he’d lose his mind. Everything else disappeared, leaving just the slap of bodies and the smell of sex and being fucked open. The slick touch of his own hand on his cock, and Greg.
    Greg staring at him and not closing his eyes, and Greg seeing him, and Greg looking like he wanted him—
    The orgasm pulled itself out of Marsh’s toes. He