Free Cherry Pie by Samantha Kane Page A

down Connor’s back, and John felt it. “Soon,” he said again.

Chapter Eleven
     
    When he pressed his finger against Connor’s entrance, John was relieved to find Connor ready for him. He was glad for Connor’s experience right then. Perhaps not the way he’d gained it, but John was glad that he didn’t have to worry about hurting or shocking him when he fucked him. He liberally applied lube, both for Connor and for him. He had a feeling that once he got inside, he was going to pound Connor hard. He was wild with the need to fuck him, desperate to take him and come.
    “Now, Johnny,” Connor whispered tightly. “I can’t stand much more waiting.”
    His southern accent was thicker than usual. The idea that John had made him lose control in some way already was enough to have John tossing the lube aside and grabbing Connor’s hips to haul him into position, his ass hanging off the edge of the bed. “That makes two of us,” John told him fervently, earning one of Connor’s brief, deep chuckles, this one a little breathless.
    John raised his left knee onto the bed next to Connor’s hip for leverage and snuggled his right leg in between Connor’s, spreading him wide. Then he nestled his cock in the crease of Connor’s tight, shapely rear and reached up to rest his hand on Connor’s back. Connor’s whole body jerked at the contact, and he made a desperate little noise in the back of his throat. To John that noise said “go” louder than any spoken word.
    As he eased inside Connor’s tight heat, John wished he didn’t have to wear the condom. It was a crazy wish. He’d never had sex without one, and with Connor’s past, it was dangerous to do so. But if Connor stayed in Mercury long enough… John didn’t even finish the thought. He wasn’t looking for that. He wasn’t looking for long-term, for commitment, for heartache. This, what he and Connor had and what they were doing, that was enough. It was more than he’d bargained for when he’d let Connor in, that was for sure. He wasn’t going to suffocate it with impossible dreams and expectations.
    Connor tucked his arms in under his chest, and John watched in a fog of desire as Connor let his whole body go lax. John could see it happen as Connor’s back went from rigid to slack, starting with his shoulders. When his ass relaxed around John’s cock, he pushed in all the way—a long, smooth glide into the heaven that was Connor, that had John gritting his teeth and clutching Connor’s hip tight.
    He began to fuck Connor hard and fast immediately, and Connor took it. He lay there under John and bit his lip and angled his hips and took it like a pro. John was lost in the haze, and it took a couple of minutes before he realized that while Connor wasn’t protesting, he also wasn’t participating quite as actively as John would like. He slowed his strokes and ran his hand down Connor’s spine to the little indent at the top of his crease. “Connor?” he asked, his voice rough. He was panting. Two minutes in Connor, and he sounded as if he’d just run a fucking marathon.
    “I’m fine,” Connor said quietly. “Go ahead.”
    That was not the response John was looking for. “I don’t want ‘fine,’” he snapped. “I want out of this world, fucking over the moon at me inside you.” He quickly pulled out. “What’s wrong? What am I doing wrong?”
    Connor started to cover his head in that god-awful defensive posture that made John’s gut clench. Before he could do it, John pressed his chest against Connor’s back, covering him. He grabbed Connor’s wrists and pressed his hands into the mattress. “Tell me, Connor,” he demanded quietly, his forehead pressed to the side of Connor’s head. “Tell me how to make you go crazy. Tell me what you need.”
    Connor shook his head. John just waited. He rubbed his nose in Connor’s spicy-scented, newly washed hair while he waited, breathing deeply.
    “Face-to-face,” Connor finally