Page 72 of Switch Hitter

Wanting me.

“Dios,” Emiliano breathes as I notch the crown at his hole. “Así… just like that…”

I lean down, mouth to his ear. “Tell me you don’t want it.”

He laughs, wrecked. “Can’t… I’d be a liar.”

I press in slowly, and my new favorite sound is the way Emiliano exhales. His fingers curl into the sheets.

“Fuck,” he groans. “Sí… sí… that’s it…”

I thrust carefully at first, letting him adjust, then deeper, finding the rhythm he likes. Emiliano moans into the pillow, and hearing him undone like this is a different kind of power.

He turns his head slightly, cheek pressed to the mattress, eyes half-lidded.

“Look at you, Cobre,” he breathes. “So fucking good at this…”

“Yeah,” I pant, thrusting a little harder. “You like the way I fuck you?”

“I fucking love the way you fuck me.”

I thrust deeper, and Emiliano makes a sound that goes straight down my spine.

“Say my name,” I demand, my voice shaking.

Emiliano’s mouth curves against the pillow. “Sean… fuck… Sean…”

Hearing it like that, on his tongue, wrecked and real, almost ends me right there.

I grab his hip tighter, my pace quickening. Emiliano gasps, Spanish spilling out between moans like prayer turned into something filthy.

“Así… mi pelirrojo… qué rico… no pares… por favor… right there…”

I’m breathing hard, sweat slicking my back, control slipping fast.

Emiliano’s hand reaches for mine at his hip, fingers weaving with mine.

A tether, and it turns everything inside me to liquid.

“Mili,” I choke out. “Fuck, I’m close.”

He moans, his voice coming out broken. “Inside. I want you to come inside me.”

The words slam into me like a command I’ve wanted my whole life. I thrust deep, hold him there, and come hard, spilling inside him with a ragged groan that feels like confession and victory all at once. Emiliano shudders, lets out a string of curses, and comes not even a second later, cum covering his stomach and some of the sheets.

For a second, the room is nothing but breath and heat and the sound of us falling quiet. I pull out carefully, hands gentle now, and he collapses fully, completely boneless.

Then I tug him into my arms like I need him close. Emiliano turns his face into my neck, breathing hard.

“Fuck,” he murmurs, dazed. “You flipped the script.”

I huff a laugh, still shaking. “Yeah.”

“Was it good for you?” I ask, not sure if that was a good thing or a bad one.

Emiliano kisses my cheek, slowly. “Good. Really good, baby.”

My throat tightens, and he doesn’t let me spiral. He just slides his hand up my back and holds me, steady and warm.