Page 72 of Two for Roughing

“No!”

Damir pushed Kilian’s red, tender ass down roughly, tensing the muscles in his thigh, and let Kilian shake and shudder and hump his way to orgasm. It took mere moments before he came, bursting warm and wet against Damir’s leg, staining his sweatpants. Damir clawed into the red skin of his ass to hear him cry out hoarsely as the last pulses left him.

Kilian came to a halt all at once, spent. Their breathing was loud in the quiet room, Kilian’s hitching into uneven sobs while Damir panted from the exertion.

He’d gone harder than he meant to, given Kilian more than he’d thought wise. Story of his life.

Kilian pushed himself up, the muscles in his shoulders standing out though his arms were shaking. He slid off of Damir’s lap and landed on the floor with a thump.

“Kilian—”

“Shh.”

Clumsy fingers scrambled for the waistband of Damir’s sweatpants.

“You don’t—”

Kilian glared. “Shut the fuck up and fuck my fucking mouth.”

In the next instant, his lips stretched wide around the head of Damir’s erection, and Damir—well, he was only human. He’d just had a beautiful man crying and shaking and coming for him, and Kilian’s mouth was pornographically lovely.

He threaded his fingers through Kilian’s hair and held on for dear life. He saw no need to follow Kilian’s order and fuck his mouth. Kilian did his level best to fuck his own throat using Damir’s dick as a prop. Tear tracks ran all down his cheeks, his eyelashes clumped together, and every now and again, Kilian’s breathing hitched as his throat constricted.

No way Damir would last more than a few minutes.

“Kilian,” he called out.

Kilian choked around him. His throat went tight, so tight, so—

He pulled away, coughing.

Damir tried to make his brain work enough to help. “Are you—should I—water?”

Kilian held up a finger, closed his eyes, swallowed…and then he got right back to it, swallowing as much of Damir’s cock as he could take. He scraped his teeth down the shaft on accident, whether because he was still coming down from an intense scene or because he gave sloppy blow jobs in general, Damir didn’t know.

It didn’t matter.

“I’m going to come,” he warned.

Kilian retreated until nothing but the very tip remained in his mouth. His tongue flicked from side to side, stimulating the nerve bundles under the head of Damir’s cock. He wrapped his fist around the saliva-wet shaft, jerking Damir as he sucked.

With his free hand, he cupped Damir’s balls. They constricted in his grip instantly. Pleasure punched Damir in the gut, and he hunched over, holding tight to Kilian’s shoulders as he came in long, thick pulses all over Kilian’s tongue.

He had to pull Kilian off of his dick when he was done, oversensitive and shaking.

That left Kilian’s shoulders in his grip, so Damir pulled him up into his lap. He wrapped his arms around Kilian’s waist and buried his face in Kilian’s neck.

“Give me a minute,” he muttered. “I’ll get us cleaned up, find some food and drink.”

“You don’t have to. You can just—”

If the next words out of Kilian’s mouth were “go,” Damir would lose his mind. “Let me— Please, Kilian, I’m begging you. That was…intense. I need to feel as though I’ve taken care of you.”

Kilian’s fingers pushed through Damir’s hair. “You did. You took such good care of me.”

Damir melted into him and held on for dear life.

Some part of him waited for Kilian to break the tension with an entirely random question or comment about Islam, hockey, kink, anything, proving he was fine.