Page 36 of Frog

I went still and silent, because wanting me around was one thing, love was a whole other undertaking. We had never, ever spoken about or brought up the concept, much less the word.

Jesus.

“Oh, he’s scared now.”

I shifted under him. “Get up.”

“And if I say no?” he asked me, hand in my hair, tipping my head sideways, his lips on the curve that connected neck to shoulder, kissing, his other hand running down my flank.

I shivered, feeling my response roll through my body. He felt so good, and the emotion surging through me was even more acute because I knew him, trusted him, and didn’t have to guess how he felt. And it was stupid to deny what we both knew, that it wasn’t just sex between us or friendship, but what the hell was I supposed to do in his world? What was I even supposed to do in a city? I didn’t know how to do anything but break horses and ride bulls and saddle and ride and… day labor? I would have the world class brain surgeon do what with me?

“Fuck!” I ground out, “Get off me!”

“So you can do what?” he whispered into my ear. “Run away?”

I got my palms flat on the bed, ready to push up, but his mouth closed over the back of my shoulder and he bit down hard.

God, I loved to have him put marks on me.

Bruises, teeth imprints, the rash from the stubble on his face, scratches: I loved it all and only ever allowed Cyrus to leave evidence on my skin, on my body.

The moan that tore out of me sent him into a frenzy of motion. Kissing, licking, nibbling, hands pulling, yanking, and when his mouth closed on my right ass cheek, I bucked forward into the mattress.

“You don’t get it yet, but you will,” he said, his breath catching as I felt the hard length of him slide over my crease.

In the manic fumbling, I had not felt him pull off my sleep shorts, but when he moved, lifting off me, I felt how naked I was and exposed.

“Web,” he growled low, hands on my hips. “Please let me have you. I will take such good care of you.”

I had never thought that I would want to submit to another man. To be me, I figured, I would always need to top. Lately though, the idea of him being inside me had filled my thoughts as I jerked off at night.

“Web,” he murmured, and I felt his hands kneading my ass, spreading my cheeks.

My cock was already hard, and as I ground down into the mattress, I felt his warm breath ghost over my skin.

“You’re all flushed,” he rasped, and I could tell that looking at me, seeing my reaction, was turning him on.

My breathing was shallow; I could hear it.

“Cy.”

“Yes, baby,” he said, and I felt the first swipe of his slick tongue over my puckered hole.

I jolted under him as I heard him flip open the cap of the lube at the same time.

“I’ll trust you if you trust me.”

“What does that mean?”

“You fuck me without a rubber.”

“What?” He was shocked, and even though I couldn’t see him, I knew his eyes had to be huge and round.

“You heard. If you’re gonna come in my ass, I wanna feel it. I wanna be drippin’ with you.”

“Oh fuck, Weber,” he groaned. “I can’t do—”

“You’re a doctor. I know you have safe sex, and we’ve never done it together without one, and I ain’t never done it with nobody else without one.”