Free Strung Up: A Blacktop Cowboys® Novella by Lorelei James Page B

wanted the marks of a man’s possession as much as I needed his.
    Then he plunged his tongue into my ass.
    The edges of my consciousness went a little hazy.
    Cres must’ve sensed I couldn’t take much more before I’d blow, so he backed off.
    I felt a cool smear of lube and the slow press of one finger inside me. I groaned and pushed back, signaling I was ready for more.
    He added more lube and another finger, his breath hot in my ear as he prepared me with the patience and surety that kicked my anticipation even higher.
    Then the head of his cock rested against my hole.
    He didn’t ask if I was ready. One hard snap of his hips and his cock was fully embedded in my ass.
    My dick slapped against my belly from the driving force when he started to fuck me.
    It’d been a dry spell the last year and I should’ve been wincing in pain. But he’d prepared me well enough that all I felt was the sweet ache of pleasure.
    “Gonna have to jack yourself this go,” he panted. “Because fuck…I’m almost done in.”
    I had a moment to bask in the sense of satisfaction that he already teetered on the brink of unraveling—that he’d needed this as much, or maybe more than I did. Balancing on my forearm, I fisted my cock, too far gone to do anything but watch my hand between my legs as I beat off.
    I had a zip of warning before my balls tightened and I was spurting into my fist.
    Cres grunted and stopped moving completely. The rhythmic squeezing of my anal passage was intense enough to pull his orgasm from him, and he shuddered above me.
    Fuck, yeah. That’s what I needed.
    As I attempted to level my breathing, I snagged the undershirt I’d left on the bed and wiped my sticky hand.
    That’s when I heard it. An odd-sounding, wounded noise.
    A panicked noise.
    No fucking way. He wasn’t running out on me again. We’d deal with his guilt or sadness or whatever together.
    When he started to pull out, to pull back, to pull away, I reached around and clamped my hand behind his quivering thigh. “Don’t,” I said gruffly. “I need a sec.”
    That brought him out of it. “Sure. Sorry.”
    I slowly pushed up onto my knees, keeping his cock—which hadn’t seemed to have softened at all—lodged in my ass.
    Immediately Cres slid his hands up the front of my body, over my abs, ribs, and chest. He curled his fingers over my shoulders, flattening his palms to my collarbones. He pressed his lips to the nape of my neck and squeezed me tight.
    A funny tickle started in my chest and I closed my eyes. Although he had the dominant position, I knew I was holding him up.
    Neither of us spoke. Cres clung to me and I continued to hold onto his thigh, letting my thumb sweep across the curve of his ass.
    Finally he heaved a huge sigh. “Thanks, man.”
    “You okay?”
    Another sigh. “I am now. It’s just…different.” His lips whispered across my skin. “That was fuckin’ awesome.”
    I grinned and turned my head to kiss his knuckles. “For me too, buddy.”
    “I didn’t think of him,” he confessed. “I was one hundred percent in the moment with you, Breck. I want to make sure you know that.”
    “You feel guilty about that, Cres?”
    “No. And then I felt guilty for not feelin’ guilty.” He paused. “That’s kinda fucked up, isn’t it.”
    I didn’t answer because he just needed to say what he was thinking out loud. What a huge feeling of relief that he trusted that I could handle his honesty.
    “Thanks for stayin’ with me during my little freak-out,” he murmured against the slope of my shoulder.
    “Well, to be honest, it was a selfish reaction. Because I don’t think my ego could’ve handed it if you would’ve run out on me twice after we fucked around.”
    Cres chuckled.
    “You wanna get your cock outta my ass now?”
    “Not really.” He sank his teeth into the spot on the back of my neck that made me goddamned weak in the knees.
    Another chuckle vibrated across my back when I swayed against him.
    I