I'll Be Your Last (17 page)

Woody bent lower over his belly, laying kisses around his navel, skipping right past his nipples. “Jesus. Please.” He arched his back, strained at his wrists.

“Did I miss something?”

Mack bit his lower lip, erotic desires filling his cock, making it harder than hard. When Woody released his hands from captivity to move lower onto his thighs, Mack gripped the tousled dark hair to guide him back to his cock.

Without stopping the kissing assault over thighs and knees, Woody warned, amusement in his voice, “No touching, or I’ll get my cuffs.”

134

Jane Leopold Quinn

Mack’s heart lurched. Good God, what was happening to him?

Bondage had never been his thing. But he held his arms stiffly at his sides, fists clenched, palms itching to—to do something. Woody’s mouth and tongue traced paths along his skin, wet and warm. Mack’s cock quivered, ached as fluid leaked from the tip, and he was fearful he’d climax just from the wicked tongue lashing.

Dazed and whimpering, Mack stared down his body at Woody caressing his calves and ankles. He’d never felt this paralyzed with another man. This was much more than simple sex.

Suddenly, Woody leaned over him, caging him in, knees at hips, hands at shoulders. “You were a good boy,” he drawled, then added with a devilish glint in his eyes, “But I wouldn’t have minded cuffing you, either.”

Their eyes met and held, so many emotions running through Mack, but Woody’s expression was pure feral aggression.
Yes, yes.

“Another time, perhaps?”

Mack was so far out of his familiar element, and he didn’t know what the hell was going on.

“Roll over, Mack.”

I’ll Be Your Last

135

Mack’s pulse raced. He opened his mouth to refuse. This was not happening. He didn’t allow it.

“Mack.” Woody nudged him in the belly with a hard cock. “Roll over.”

Woody’s gaze filled him with more desire than he’d ever imagined in his life.

“Trust me, baby.”

Baby?
He couldn’t move if a bomb went off in the bedroom.

Could he allow himself to finally be fucked in the ass again?

“Trust me.”
Nudge, nudge.

Okay, he could do this. It took him a few seconds to settle his throbbing erection into the softness of the bed. He kept his elbows bent, fingers splayed on the sheet in case he needed to push up to escape. Woody stretched over him, and all his panic dissipated.

The hot skin of his chest rested heavily on his back, Woody’s belly on his buttocks, erect penis snuggled in at the apex of his thighs.

Mack stiffened at what that portended. Then he forgot the fear at the trail of kisses Woody traced across his shoulders and so slowly down his spine. Lower, lower, until he reached the small of his back.

“You have the most adorable dimples. Right here.” He dug his tongue into the indentations.

Woody’s lips caressed one ass cheek, and Mack couldn’t hold back a moan. The lips smoothed, now followed by fingertips, down to the crease between cheek and thigh. Woody traced his tongue along the curve and skipped over to the other side. His finger slipped between Mack’s thighs and massaged his perineum.

136

Jane Leopold Quinn

Mack let out a sigh. “Harder,” he murmured.

Woody obediently increased the pressure and continued kissing, now nipping up the other cheek.

Until now, Mack had tried very hard to control his reactions, but these raw emotions couldn’t be kept hidden any longer. He tightened his fists, and his hips shimmied involuntarily at the kisses at the base of his spine.

“Sh, baby. It’s all right. Let me love you.”
Oh, God.
Mack squeezed his eyes closed at that promise.

“You’ve got the most beautiful ass I’ve ever seen,” Woody purred, and continued licking.

Mack’s shoulders tensed. Woody’s tongue slid down the center, invading, his fingers following along until they slipped between his thighs again to press his taint. “Jesus,” came out softly.

“You like that.”

Woody obviously knew he did. Mack could only moan his agreement as mouth, teeth, and tongue swept over his ass cheeks willy-nilly until he couldn’t begin to guess where they’d land next.

Mack started to pant. His thighs opened for more sensual massage, his hips arched. Part of his brain knew where this was headed, but he couldn’t seem to put the pieces together coherently. And, most importantly, he couldn’t stop Woody. He didn’t want to.

He didn’t
want
this.

Yes
, he wanted this possession.

He’d never allowed it all these years.

Nip. Then he felt lips sucking the wound.

Woody’s fingers were getting closer to his hole. God, it was incredible. All he’d known was the rough invasion of his first time, then the guilty pleasure afterward. He’d never felt this sensuous, electrifying version. He’d never thought to let his other partners do this. Had never wanted to.

He wasn’t even surprised at the cool lube. He’d been expecting it, desiring it more than he’d thought possible. The gelled finger outlined
I’ll Be Your Last

137

the tight rim of his anus, the pressure pushing the liquid inside. Oh, God, he couldn’t believe he was allowing…

All rational thought ended, and his body took over. One finger inside devastated him. How was he going to handle a cock? Woody’s cock. “More,” he begged, his voice tight and rusty.

In and out, that finger tortured him, ratcheting him up, softening his hole. Slow, even strokes accompanied Woody’s warm breath and kisses.

“What do you want, baby? What do you want me to do to you, sweetheart?”

That voice, lips skimming across his skin, vibrating on his ass, seduced him.

“Do you want more fingers?”

All Mack could do was rustle his head on the sheet, hoping he indicated yes. Then he groaned loudly when another finger pushed into him, stretching him wider. “More, please.”

“God, you’re tight and so sweet and hot, and I love doing this to you.” More lube, another finger, and Woody plunged three in.

Mack lost track. All he knew was what he wanted. “Jesus, fuck me. Put your cock inside me. Hard. Fuck me hard.” He may have heard a chuckle. It may have been a groan. The fingers left him, and a moment later, the head of Woody’s dick breached the outer ring. And stopped. Mack tried to thrust back, but a hand in the small of his back ended that.

“You tortured me. It’s your turn now, sweetheart. You’re going to get what you deserve.”

Woody’s voice didn’t sound too steady. His cock slid in another little bit. And stopped again. Woody swiveled his hips, surging but not entering any deeper.

Mack was frenzied for more cock. He needed it embedded all the way. Now it had started, he needed more.

But Woody was obviously determined to do it his way. He thrust slowly in inch by thick inch, driving Mack to the edge of madness.

138

Jane Leopold Quinn

Inch.

By thick inch.

“Jesus, I need to be all the way in.” On that long groan, Woody drove all the way in, belly to ass, balls to balls, and kept thrusting deep inside Mack’s ass until the pumping and throbbing brought on his ejaculation deep inside the inner walls of his rectum.

His first coherent thought was that he wanted the hot, thick semen with no barrier between their bodies.
God, what does that mean?

Horrified and elated, he knew what it meant.

His cock, engorged and aching, needed its own release, but instinctively, he wanted to run. Run far and fast. But he couldn’t. Not because Woody still lay draped over his back, impaled deeply, not because Woody’s lips brushed his neck and shoulders. He didn’t really want to run. He didn’t know what would happen to them tomorrow and the next day, on and on, but this man was where he felt safe. Mack wiggled his ass. He was full, stretched, and deliciously happy. Woody was still in there, his cock not softening.

“Are you all right, Mack? Did I hurt you?” Woody whispered into his ear.

Mack didn’t answer right away.

“Do you want me off?”

“Not yet,” he finally said so softly he wasn’t sure Woody heard him. He wished he could see the two of them like this. What an amazingly erotic sight that would be. “I’d like to see you in a mirror.”
Did I just say that aloud?

Woody’s body jiggled with his chuckle. “I think that can be arranged.” He slowly withdrew, both of them groaning at that pleasure.

Mack closed his eyes. He was just going to rest them for a minute while Woody took care of the rubber. Then he felt a warm, wet cloth at his ass with Woody wielding it in gentle brushing strokes.

I’ll Be Your Last

139

“So you’d like to do this again?” Woody caressed his ass, squeezing the curves. “You have
really
got a world-class ass, honey.

Whoo-eee!”

“I’ve never used endearments with another guy,” Mack revealed in a sleepy voice. “You’re the first.”

“It feels good to be able to call you something softer than Mack.” Woody growled the name. “M-a-a-a-ck. When I’m kissing your shoulder”—and he did—”like that, I’d like to call you ‘baby’ or

‘sweetheart.’”

“I don’t know if I can.”

“You do realize that you called me ‘baby’ and ‘sweetheart’

earlier.”

Mack opened his mouth.

“Why don’t you just let it flow? You can say whatever you want to me, however you want.”

“I’m not sure…”

Woody stopped him with a finger caressing his cheek.

“Whenever. Okay? Don’t stress out about it.” With a crooked smile, he leaned down to catch Mack’s eye. “Darling.”

“I’ve got to go to the john.” Mack slid off the bed. “Do you need some pain meds for your shoulder?” Once he hit the bathroom and shut the door, he balanced a hand on the counter. Whoa, his asshole hurt. He wasn’t used to that activity, that was for sure, and it was a new sensation. He gazed in the mirror, surprised that his face looked exactly the same as before this incredible night and morning.

He wasn’t sure he was ready to deal with all this. Things were changing, his perceptions, beliefs, fears, desires. The fact that he’d let Woody fuck him and the fact that he’d liked, no, he’d loved it, changed his life. Maybe he
could
care for another man. Maybe he already did.

Whoa.
He backed away from the mirror, leaned against the wall, and slid down, planting his naked butt on cold floor tiles. His stomach jumped in panic, twirling and spinning crazily.
No!
He wasn’t made
140

Jane Leopold Quinn

for a relationship. He couldn’t do it. But he’d been the one to use the word ‘love’ first. What that said about his true feelings for Woody was a revelation. At the hospital, he’d watched his breathing, praying for the next rise of his chest to know he was still alive. Was that caring? Was it lo—?

“Mack, are you okay?”

Woody’s concerned voice flowed through him.

“You’ve been in there for ten minutes.”
Christ, has it been that long?

“Do you need anything?”

Mack shook his head, then realized Woody couldn’t see him. Part of him was so happy. Part of him needed some time to make peace with all this. “Kiki,” he murmured.
Damn. How could I have forgotten
my dog?

He pushed himself up, took a leak, washed his hands and face, ran his fingers through his hair, and opened the door. Woody had gone, his clothes, too. When he sauntered back into the bedroom, Kiki trotted along behind him.

Something broke in what Mack thought was quite possibly his heart. He didn’t want to hurt Woody. For once in his life, he didn’t want to escape a man. His lovemaking had been cathartic, intense, and erotic. He sat heavily on the bed and turned his gaze on the man in the doorway. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Um-hm.” Woody made the quiet sound.

Okay, shit or get off the pot time. Mack’s eyes melded with Woody’s dark ones. “Do you want to walk Kiki with me?” In his mind, the question was more than just walking a dog.

Woody took a deep breath, but his expression remained impassive.

Mack rose and moved to stand in front of him, his arms at his sides. His heart thumped wildly. He had a feeling this would be momentous. “I want you to.”

I’ll Be Your Last

141

Woody’s expression finally changed, his sexy lips cracking a slight smile.

Mack lifted a hand, cupping Woody’s cheek. “I want to do it with you,” he repeated, making it as sincere as he could even though he was truly fucking scared to death. “I’ve never done this before.”

“I know.” Woody smiled and bent into Mack’s palm.

“I don’t know how.”

* * * *

“We’ll just do it.” Woody knew this love thing was unfamiliar territory for Mack. And it
was
love, or the beginning of love. “Let’s walk her.”

The sidewalk was busy. No one paid any special attention to two guys walking a dog. On the way back, they picked up some deli sandwich makings and more beer. Then they climbed back into bed with their clothes on.

“Let’s talk,” Woody suggested. “We know we’re good in bed together, but there’s more to a relationship than that.” He carefully watched for Mack’s reaction to that
R
word. So far, he hadn’t run away screaming, although it
was
his apartment.

“I wonder if I can really…”

“Really what?” Woody asked after Mack paused.

“Do I have it in me to settle down?”

“I’ll help you. My father says I’m a fixer, that I want to save people. I do, but not so much fix as make a difference in another man’s life.”

“You’ve already made a difference in mine,” Mack admitted.

“You started the process for yourself, you know. You’re a rescuer, too.” He nodded at Kiki. “No one need know anything we don’t want them to know.” Woody’s heart soared. “I’ve always known the challenge of Mack Penchant would be worth it. Not only did you surprise me with a rescue dog, you’re the hottest, sexiest thing on two
142

Jane Leopold Quinn