Free Born to Be Wylde by Jan Irving

and, uh, you better use a lot of lube.” Ken raised his brows at Wylde’s thickness.
Wylde braced one hand on Ken’s hip while putting two fingers up him.
Ken grunted, caught between the burn and the need to be open, so he could take it, what he needed.
Wylde stroked him, watching his face as if trying to decipher what Ken liked. His hands were still marked up from trying to salvage Ken’s pottery. Ken’s throat tightened.
Seeing that, he knew Wylde loved him.
His shoulders relaxed, and he felt a tired peace replace the gutted feeling. He didn’t know what happened next. He had no idea where Wylde lived when he wasn’t in his cave. And he’d lost his studio. And there was someone hunting him. But here with Wylde, he felt it would all work out somehow….
Wylde held his prick in one hand and pushed against Ken’s dimple, holding his gaze as he breached Ken, slower this time, as if remembering what Ken had asked for before they’d been interrupted.
Slow….
And then the bulbous head stretched Ken, making his hands clench into the bark of the tree as he offered his ass, sweat breaking out on his forehead. And then Wylde was lodged deep inside him.

Chapter Nine
    “ U HHHHH !” Ken’s head fell back as Wylde pulled out and then thrust back in. Wylde’s hands went above their heads to cover Ken’s, and Ken turned his palms around so they were holding hands as Wylde fucked him.
    Wylde was trembling, sweat on his forehead and upper lip, which was streaked with ash. He looked like some kind of barbarian warrior from the past, claiming what was his.
    Ken smiled a little, remembering how Wylde had cupped his prick in front of Jim. He’d probably put Ken in chains before he’d share him with another man, and that was a kinky thought.
    “Ken….” Wylde’s lips glanced against Ken’s, his grip holding Ken securely as his cock slammed inside him. Ken could tell he was already on the verge, lit so fast!
    “Touch me, baby,” Ken pleaded. “Touch and stroke me.” Wylde let one hand fall and wrapped it tentatively around Ken, studying his face. Seeing his lover needed visual cues, Ken let what he was feeling live in his eyes. “That feels so good.”
    “Mine,” Wylde said.
“Well….”
Wylde tugged a little harder, and Ken gasped, pushing
back to take more of Wylde. “I want to be yours,” he whispered.
    Wylde’s hand reached down to play with Ken’s balls, stroking and rolling them gently, so Ken’s throat tightened again. He felt cherished, impaled, taken. Wylde wanted desperately to please him.
“Mine because I found you,” Wylde said.
    Ken shifted, lifting one foot so it was on the side of the tree, and the angle of penetration changed. “Oh! Oh, Wylde….”
    Wylde thrust harder, his breath hitting hot against Ken’s skin. “Ken.” Saying Ken’s name, his body stiffened, and he bit down on junction of Ken’s neck and shoulder, marking him as he filled the condom.
    Ken flashed back to how he’d felt when Wylde was stroking his cock in front of another man, like he was a prize of conquest. He really shouldn’t…. Not politically correct…. He came hard, spurting against the bark, Wylde’s willing captive.
    T HEY went back to the stream where Wylde had first cared for him. This time when Wylde walked under the water, Ken joined him, lifting his face up and letting the chill wipe away the miasma of smoke and loss. He had to duck out quickly, laughing at how cold he was. Wylde soaped him up with a new sandalwood bar taken from Ken’s cabin.
    Ken watched, content, as Wylde took his time, kneeling at Ken’s feet, doing a thorough job, as if Ken were something he owned and he was going to take care of him. He stretched out his arms, and Wylde did them and then his hands, almost fondling his fingers as he watched Ken with sexdazed eyes. It made Ken harden again, so he was reluctant to take another icy shower against his stimulated body.
    Wylde took the decision from him, swinging him off his feet