Again, he let his finger explore, no penetration, just rubbing Wes’s pucker back and forth.

“Always talking.” Wes wrapped a hand around his own erection.

“Wait. Not yet.” Braden pushed his hand away. “I want to be the one to pleasure you.”

“Then do it.”

Braden couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re pushy when you’re horny. I like it.”

With that, Braden leaned forward, ran his tongue from Wes’s hole to his balls and back down again. “Hold your legs,” he told Wes before his tongue went to work on him again.

Wes did as he said, keeping his legs up and out of the way as Braden tongued him. He used his hand to cup Wes’s sac as he worked him.

Every one of Wes’s moans urged him on, made him want to give him more pleasure than he’d ever had.

Braden sucked his finger before pushing it inside. He watched as his finger slid in and out of Wes’s body. “That is so fucking sexy. I can’t wait until it’s my cock.” And then he leaned in again, using his tongue and finger on him at the same time.

“Yeah...Oh fuck,” Wes groaned as he latched onto Braden’s hair, pushing his head closer to him.

“So fucking pushy,” Braden said as he curved his finger, looking for Wes’s prostate.

“Don’t.” Wes grabbed his wrist. “I don’t want to come yet. Fuck me.”

Braden pushed to his feet. Pre-come already pearled at the tip of his cock. Jesus, this man did it for him. “You don’t have to ask me twice.” He grabbed lube and a condom from his bedside table. Once he had himself covered, he squirted some lube in his hand, rubbed some on himself and then on Wes’s asshole.

“Don’t move,” he told Wes. “I want you right there.” Then he ran his hand down Wes’s chest, let his fingers run through the hair there, just touching. Always touching...

He traced Wes’s abs with his finger. “You’re too damn sexy.”

“You’re still talking.”

Braden shook his head, leaned over Wes’s body and pushed inside. “You like it when I talk.”

Before Wes could argue with him, Braden pulled out and shoved forward again. He took Wes’s mouth, owning it as he thrust as long and deep as he could.

Wes’s feet dug into Braden’s legs as he pumped, as Wes’s body squeezed his cock oh so fucking right.

It felt like someone injected pleasure into him, needles in every inch of his body, yet he still wanted more.

“Harder.” Wes’s grip on him tightened. “I want more.”

Christ, that almost made him come right there. Braden growled as he jerked out of him, as he flipped Wes over to lie on his stomach before pushing inside again. Leaning over his back, he slammed into him.

This time when Wes’s hand moved down, he didn’t stop Wes from jerking himself off. He tried to position them so he had more space without stopping his movements, wanting as deep inside him as he could get.

“Fuck, my whole body is aching. I’m about to fucking lose it, Wesley.” He thread his arms under Wes’s from behind and let his hands grip his shoulders. It gave him the leverage he needed.

Wes’s hand moved faster, then he groaned, his body jerking in completion under Braden. It was all he needed to knock him over the edge, too. His cock jerked inside Wes as he continued to pump through his orgasm. When his body felt bled dry, he rolled off Wes and onto the bed. His chest heaved in and out. He remembered Wes’s words when he’d arrived, how he wanted to come soon. Braden let his head roll to the side, to see whisky eyes looking at him. “Was that soon enough?”

***

“Do you ever stop?” Wes almost turned away after asking the question but for some reason he couldn’t, so he just lay there, watching Braden.

“Will you ever stop pretending you want me to?” he countered.

Who the hell was this man? Half the time he didn’t know how to respond to him, and Wes wasn’t sure how he felt about that. Just like with the notes this morning, or the fact that Braden had left him last night because he’d known Wes would have wanted him to, it made conflicting emotions war inside him—respect, and the urge to flee.

Which was why he tried not to think of it at all. Luckily for him, his stomach growled loudly enough for Braden to hear.

“I made ya work up an appetite, huh?”

“No. I’m always hungry after a night of drinking. Not everything is about you.” He surprised himself when he playfully pushed at Braden’s arm. “I should go—”