Page 14 of Riding the Reaper

Gray stills. “Sam?”

“Don’t stop,” I grit out. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Mm-hmm.”

I can feel him holding back, every muscle tight, restraining himself. That’s the last thing I want. I reach behind me and grab his thigh, digging my fingers in, pulling him forward. The need to have him inside me is stronger than the pain. I need to know what this feels like. All of it.

“Give me everything, Gray,” I beg, muffled by my own arm. “Make me take it.”

He lets out a string of words I don’t recognize. Some language of the dead, maybe. It sounds like he’s cursing. Then he starts to push, slow and steady, burying himself inside me inch by inch. The burn is so intense I feel it in my teeth. My whole body is screaming, What the hell are you doing, Sam? But that voice is drowned out by another, louder one that’s been waiting for this. The one that’s wanted it, craved it, ached for it for years. The one screaming yes, yes, yes, get that ass ruined.

He keeps pushing, and there doesn’t seem to be an end to him. I feel every ridge, every vein as he stretches me to what feels like my absolute limit. Then he keeps going. Just when I think that must be it, there’s more cock to take.

Finally, his hips meet my ass, and we both let out a shuddering breath. I’m full. So full I can’t breathe, can’t think. Sweat runs down my face. I’ve never been this present in my own body, aware of every cell, every nerve ending. The pulse of him deep inside me feels like a second heartbeat.

He holds there, letting me adjust, and the sharpest edge of the pain starts to fade. I can feel him trembling with the effort of staying still, letting me get used to his size. The fact that he’s doing this for me, keeping himself in check because of me, is as big a thrill as the cock currently reshaping my guts.

I glance over my shoulder, and the look on his face is worth every second of the burn. Veins standing out in his neck, jaw clenched tight, dark eyes locked on where we’re joined. His pale skin is slicked with sweat, moonlight catching the carved planes of his chest.

Experimentally, I clench my muscles around him. His whole body spasms. A choked-off growl rips from his throat. His grip on my hips turns bruising, and I know I’m about to get everything I asked for.

“Sam.” Voice like gravel. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

“Show me.” I push back against him, corkscrewing myself on his cock. “Show me what I do to you, Gray.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. He pulls out, every inch of him dragging against my insides. The void he leaves behind is hollowing. Then he slams back in, a deep thrust that knocks the breath from my lungs and sends me forward into the hay.

“Yes,” I gasp. “Like that. Again.”

He pulls back and drives home a second time, harder, the smack of his hips against my ass echoing through the barn. Then he lets loose. A punishing, relentless pace. In and out, deep and fast, gripping my hips for leverage, fucking me how I’ve always needed to be fucked.

Pain and pleasure blur into the same thing. I can’t separate them anymore, don’t want to. There’s just his cock splitting me open with every stroke, the slap of skin on skin, the smell of hay and sweat, and these raw, guttural sounds tearing out of him from somewhere deep inside.

This. This is what I’ve been missing. This is what I’ve been chasing with clumsy fingers in the dark, face shoved into a pillow so nobody would hear. And no fantasy ever came close. The weight of a man behind me. The strength in his hands. The feeling of being pinned down and fucked open by someone bigger and stronger.

Every thrust punches a sound out of me I’ve never made before. Broken, needy moans that the old Sam would’ve died of shame over. But the old Sam is gone. The guy who got dumped and walked into the woods tonight wouldn’t recognize me now. This version of me is face down in the hay, taking every inch of Gray’s cock, and the only word left in his vocabulary is “harder.”

And Gray delivers. He fucks me like it’s his personal mission to make sure I can’t walk out of this barn. Not without limping. His balls slap violently against my ass—smack, smack, smack—and there’s fluid leaking from where he’s hammering into me. Lube? Sweat? Precum? I can’t tell. All I know is it sounds filthy. Wet, sloppy, and absolutely perfect.

I push myself up on my hands, driving my ass back to meet him thrust for greedy thrust. The change in angle lets him reach depths I didn’t know existed.

“There,” I pant. “Right there. Fuuuuu⁠—”

“This the spot?” he grunts, a cruel smirk in his voice. He knows damn well it is. He’s been aiming for it. “This where you wanted me all along?”

He’s getting bold now. Is that what happens when a reaper breaks the rules? All that suppressed intensity comes pouring out in one glorious, hole-ruining fuck. I love it. I live for it. I want him to keep talking to me like that, rough and dirty, until my brain melts and leaks out of my ears.

Gray leans forward, blanketing me with his body, and repeats in my ear, softer now. “Is this where you wanted me, Sam?” All while his hips piston into me.

I try to answer, I really do, but all that comes out is a strangled garble of vowels. My cock bobs between my legs, forgotten, leaking a steady stream of precum onto the hay. I don’t even need to touch myself. He’s literally fucking it out of me. I could come just from this. From the fullness, the pressure, the way his breath keeps catching like he can’t believe what’s happening to him.

Well, that makes two of us.

If anyone ever tells me heaven is a bunch of angels sitting on clouds playing harps, I’ll laugh in their face. This is heaven. Right here. A cock so deep in my ass I can taste it. Tell me this isn’t what it’s for. Why else would it feel this good? Why else would there be a pleasure button inside me that only a dick can reach? No, this is how it’s supposed to be. A man taking another man.

And to think I’ve denied myself this. For years. All because I was scared of what people would say, scared of disappointing my family, scared of being different. Fuck that. I’ve never felt more like myself. Everything I’ve held back for years is pouring out with every hard snap of his hips. The frustration, the loneliness, the shame. All of it leaving my body in a rush of sweat and moans and surrender.