Head 01 Hot Head (37 page)

Dante groaned and puled Griff’s hips closer with his legs until that battering ram was buried inside him, stretching him impossibly. “There’s so much of you,

man. I’m trying to get a handle.”

Golden hands slipped over Griff’s wet skin, looking for purchase. They were too slick. Dante finaly slid his arms around Griff’s ribs and squeezed him in a

kind of humping bear hug. Between his cheeks, the tight knot of muscle milked the ful fat length of Griff’s erection; Dante’s whole body squeezed around it.

Dante’s black-green eyes found his. “Good?”

“Ungh. Uh-yeah. That. How are…?” Griff groaned and gasped his approval. “Keep doing—keep that.”

Dante’s tan legs squeezed around his back, the soft, sooty hairs plastered with their mixed sweat and sliding over his high flexing haunches. The circle of

Dante’s sinewy arms squeezing their chests together and Griff licking his throat again and again.

Dante’s dick was trapped in the cage they made, slipping between their abdomens and leaking honey. Dante’s mouth against his babbled nonsense in Italian.

Every slam of Griff’s hips forced the air out of him, and he was pushing his hips up to meet the thrusts.

“Hard… harder.” Dante’s voice was hoarse and frantic. He was straining like he was climbing a sheer rock face, puling himself up toward something impossible. Like he was trying to get away, but he wanted to take Griff with him wherever he was going.

“Do you feel that? Do you feel where I am? I’m fucking you, Dante.”

Dante grunted every time he touched bottom, air whooshing out of him, his ass straining to accept the girth, his eyes watering with the strain. So stretched.

For the first time in his life, Griff was proud of his thick pole instead of worried. His flesh was doing something irrevocable to Dante.

With one hand, Griff reached down where they were joined, and ran a finger around that perfect stretched hole, tracing the exact ridge where his dick was

wedged inside, stretching Dante so completely.

God, don’t let me hurt him more than he needs me to
.

Dante’s ass was clamped so firmly on Griff that the skin of his dick couldn’t move against the condom; his blunt erection slid inside the foreskin and kept the friction from rubbing the tender opening raw. They were fused so tightly that he could barely tel where he stopped and Dante began. One beast.

Griff groaned and covered Dante’s loose mouth with his own, driving his tongue in to steal the stars from his eyes, the fire from his mind.

“Dante, open your eyes. I’m right here. Look.”

Dante grunted, squirming closer.

Griff lifted an inch and spoke right into his mouth. “We should never be farther apart than this.”

Dante panted and nodded. His eyes were wet, watching Griff’s, and a tear leaked out the corner of one into the sweat on the beautiful Roman face. Dante’s

hot ass, kneading and milking harsh pleasure out of him.

Their hips thudding together, Griff yelped at the heat. He felt like his skin had shrunk and his spirit was about to pop free. Griff licked the salty trail away and kissed both eyes, black lashes against his lips.

Tell him: I love you.

His fingers roamed over Dante, marking his skin with handprints, memorizing it. “This belongs to me. Only me. No one else can have it. Not even you. It’s

mine. You’re mine.”

Dante whimpered and nodded, pleading.

“Your spit is mine. Your skin. The way you smel.” Griffin kept fucking Dante like a brute, pounding him with savage punctuation. He could feel Dante’s

nipples rubbed raw against his wet, furry chest.

This is what I need. This is who I am.

Dante reached up, pushing his hands into Griffin’s thick red hair, his long body shaking and grunting with the impacts. Dante was crying and kissing him so

hard that one of their lips was bleeding, the coppery taste in both their mouths.

Griff rubbed his stubbled face against Dante’s shadowed jaw, sucking and biting it like a tiger. “Those sounds are mine. Your cum. You can’t give it to

anyone else.”

“Please, Griffin. Please!” Dante’s eyes were scorched, the pupils dilated with need; his mouth was loose as he begged with his whole body.

“Say it. Look in my eyes and tel me. Whose is it? Never again, Dante. You hear? Listen to me.” Griff could feel a spark in his lower back as his ass hammered at Dante.

Griff arched back, bracing one beefy palm in the center of Dante’s chest over his thundering heart so he could see everything while he was feeling it, memorizing the way Dante’s muscles shook with the thrusts and his midnight hair twisted in the cushions, the whole footbal couch creaking as he tried to make

them into one thing, one thing, one thing….

What if it’s only this once?

“Something is happening. I can’t stop—” Dante widened his eyes and spread his arms like he’d been thrown out of a plane, like the ground was rushing to

meet him. He didn’t touch his hardness. “Agh! What are you doing to me? The fuck are you doing to me?!”

I’m loving you. Tell him.

Griff felt his bals drawing up, a hard knot at the base of his dick, readying the load he needed to put inside Dante. “I’m not gonna let you hurt yourself

anymore. I’m not gonna let you be lonely or hurt or afraid. Ungh. Mmmph. Every part of you is mine, D. Beautiful and ugly.”

They slid and slapped against each other. The couch was soaked with sweat. Griff braced one leg for purchase so he could push a little closer, get a little

deeper. Dante’s vein-strapped erection jerked untouched between them, dark with urgency.

“Inside of me. Something….” Dante gasped appreciatively, his mouth an O of surprise and his eyes blind. “Oh my God, Griffin! Inside. I can’t stop—oh

Jesus Christ! I’m not even touching—it feels…. I’m not—”

Griff drove himself into the flexing satin heat and stayed planted, so deep he was sure his hardness was nudging Dante’s heart. He felt the slick muscle clamp along his length, milking him and puling him that tiny bit closer. His arms buckled, and he let his ful weight drive him ful-length into Dante.

With that, Dante roared—threw his head back, greedy and groaning and begging as hot spirals of cum splatted between them up to his mouth. His hands dug

into Griff’s flexed back. The smel was everywhere: salt, musk, and the funk of his semen. Al Dante. The walnut tang of it filed their mouths so that they could taste it in each other’s kiss. Their torsos slid in it, smearing hot together as Dante gulped air and rode the feeling as far as he could, and it was starry heaven.

Griff fought his orgasm with everything he had. Stil pushed deep and unmoving, he stayed rigid, trying to stop the inevitable, impossible pleasure as Dante’s

body spasmed around him, but he knew: he was going to come. Even if he didn’t thrust, he was going to come in Dante’s flexing ass.
Jesus-Mary-and-Joseph
, he was breeding his best friend and he had asked for it and they were both stone sober and wide awake. He could feel that bal of lightning at the base of his spine and his hips hunched uncontrolably closer, a half-inch deeper.

At that, Dante’s scarab eyes—
dark glass-green and I never knew—
opened to look right into his gray, into
him,
and that was it.

Griff puled back his ful length once and drove his club of a cock one last time into that tight, sweet ring, roaring and nailing Dante to the sofa and turning himself inside out as he tried to get deep enough—just emptying-emptying-emptying everything he had inside Dante where it belonged. Somewhere far away, it felt like Dante was coming again, filed with him.

The room was suddenly quiet. Dante panted and whimpered, not looking at him, hiding his eyes. Sweat and semen slid hot between them.

Griff felt the room fade back into view around them as his focus on Dante softened; the whole world suddenly phosphoresced. No way was sex ever like

this. This felt too good to be normal.
How am I gonna be normal with him?
His own breath coming in huge gulps as he tried to slow the heart hammering behind his ribs.

So much for experimenting. So much for curious.

A dog barked down in the street.

Griff shivered and realized he had fucked up worse than either of them could have imagined. Nothing would undo what had happened. Nothing they could

say would erase this. Nothing in his life would ever make him happy but this, and Dante was trying not to meet his eyes.
Oh shit.
Why won’t he look up?
His skin chiled; his stomach knotted. And Dante wasn’t looking at him, was actualy trying to avoid looking at him.

Dante’s face was crushed into the sweaty sofa pilows, his hair knotted and his eyes barely open.

I hurt him.

Griff could feel the panic building. Had he forced him? Had a joke just gotten out of hand?

I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, D.

Griffin felt his erection soften and slip free, the condom ful. He held it awkwardly.

Dante winced, curling his legs up so he was on his side, and Griff’s heart turned into a sack of ice in his chest.

Griff crouched over the space where Dante had lain, memorizing them together. He couldn’t think, didn’t know where to be on the couch. Should he go?

Should he apologize?
Idiot
. How could he have screwed up so completely?

He wasn’t expecting the whisper when it came.

Dante didn’t even rol over to ask. “You mad at me?”

Griff didn’t know what to say, half-witted with panic.

I’m mad at you? Why am I mad at you?

He couldn’t connect the words to anything he felt. He didn’t know what to say, so he stayed cautious as a cat on a rope. He licked his dry lips with a dry

tongue and spoke gravel.

“I’m so sorry, Dante.”

Dante’s back stiffened; his breath stopped. He stil would not turn over. “Oh.”

A crack split the block of ice inside Griff’s chest, and hope drained out of him.

Griff didn’t know where to look, but he knew he needed to put some safe space between them. He didn’t want to make it worse. He shifted and leaned

back, puling his knees up, his bals pooling on the damp upholstery. “I just wanted you so much and I felt al this crazy shit for you and I didn’t mean to make you do anything you didn’t… I’m sorrier than anything, D. I’d die first. I’d never hurt you. I’d kil anyone who hurt you. With these hands. You know that. Please look at me.”

Dante roled over on his back, his face stil searching for something on the ceiling.

I didn’t mean it. Please. Please don’t say whatever it is.

Griff held his breath, waiting for it, knowing the axe would fal and he’d start dying as soon as he walked out the fucking door, and Dante would just grin and joke and try to forget what they had done together in this room.

Then Dante’s glinting scarab eyes slid to his.

The tiniest movement under those raven-black lashes and the corner of that medium-rare mouth hooked into a wicked grin and caught Griff’s big dumb open

heart and reeled it wriggling from his chest into the gleaming air, and then Griff wasn’t sorry, not sorry at al, as he laid himself ful length over the man he loved and stroked him and thanked him and made promises he knew he would keep.

DAWN.

In every sense of the word. Everything felt newly hatched.

Griff didn’t turn his head to check the clock. He could only see the dark red pilowcase that smeled like Dante’s leathery musk. He scootched closer to get

his face against the back of Dante’s neck and breathed deeply.
Ungh
. His cock flexed and started to swel.

Dante mumbled and shifted against his front, his perfect tight buttocks wedged against Griff’s lap. Like Griff was a sturdy chair on its side. Griff stayed stil, not wanting to leave, afraid to wake him, wishing he was brave enough to lick the back of that strong neck.
Just a few more minutes and then I’ll leave and we
can pretend this didn’t mean anything, if that’s what you want.

Is that what you want?

Outside the sky hadn’t gotten past silver and pink; even Mr. Sun hadn’t gotten his radiant ass up yet. A couple houses down, one of Dante’s neighbors was

dragging a trashcan to the curb. Brooklyn was holding its breath the way it did before the day got loose and took over. Two men, two friends curled in bed. The next few minutes would decide everything.

Griff prayed a little, feeling like a hypocrite.
Please don’t say anything bad. Please don’t pretend it didn’t happen. Please let me have a smile before

you say or do anything else.

Dante roled his head on the pilow, and when he saw Griff’s nerves, the pirate smile spread over his face, a sunrise right here indoors. He blinked slowly.

“Hi.”

“Hey.” Griff let out the breath he’d been holding. He felt stupid for worrying.

“You sleep okay?” Dante squinted at the digital clock and stretched his neck.