Love in Xxchange: Rory's Last Chance (11 page)

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Authors: Bailey Bradford

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BOOK: Love in Xxchange: Rory's Last Chance
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He nipped harder on Chance’s bottom lip, tasted blood on his tongue and struggled to rein in this violent force that wanted complete control—until Chance bit back, hard.

Rory’s control snapped, something deep inside of him broke free and he was jerking Chance up off the couch, ignoring the pain as his hands as he fisted his hands high up in the dark blue denim shirt. Chance grabbed onto Rory’s forearms and stumbled at the sudden move. Rory gave a sharp tug and sent the buttons from Chance’s shirt flying across the living room. The naked expanse of tanned flesh was topped with small brown nipples that were erect, telling Rory that Chance was every bit as turned on and needy as he was.

Rory bent and scraped his teeth across one pointy tip, pinching the other nipple as Chance threaded his fingers through Rory’s hair. It wasn’t enough—Rory needed more. He reached around and grabbed a handful of Chance’s ass, tugging the man closer, wanting to crawl into his lover’s skin. The hands holding his head gripped tighter, pulling his hair almost painfully as Rory clamped his teeth down on the turgid nipple he’d suckled.

“Fuck! Rory!” Chance’s whole body bowed as he smashed Rory’s face against his chest.

Rory bit again, pinching and twisting the nipple he held between his thumb and forefinger at the same time. Chance roared and shook beneath Rory’s mouth and hands. Rory stood and locked his arms around his lover as he took Chance’s mouth in another demanding kiss. He wanted nothing more than to shove down Chance’s jeans and bend the man over, to bury his cock so deep inside Chance that he would still feel Rory tomorrow—

but visions of Art fucking him roughly and without preparation, the remembered pain of that violent penetration, held Rory in check.

“Need you now.” Rory started to push Chance backwards then paused, suddenly afraid of the violent strength of his need. He took half a step back and looked at Chance, worried he had been too forceful but only saw the same achingly raw desire that was consuming his own soul.

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A curt nod from Chance had Rory reaching to pull the battered denim shirt from his lover’s torso. Keeping his eyes locked on Chance’s, Rory tossed it aside and then reached for Chance’s belt. He unbuckled it and grabbed the ends, using it to tug Chance down the hallway to the bedroom.

As soon as they cleared the door, Rory snapped it closed and spun Chance away from him. Using his body, Rory leant against Chance, pushing him so that chest was flush to the door. He grabbed his lover’s thick wrists and pulled his arms above his head, palms flat on the smooth wooden surface.

“Stay just like that, don’t move,” Rory ordered softly.

He stepped back and took in the sight Chance made, tanned skin against the dark wood, his head turned to the side with eyes shut and lips slightly parted as stuttering breaths slipped out. Long muscular arms spread up and out, leading down to broad shoulders that could carry more than their share of burdens. The way Chance’s broad, sculpted back tapered down into lean hips and that taut, perfect ass had Rory’s mouthwatering. Pre cum soaked through the denim of his jeans and had Rory scurrying to grab the lube.

He was back behind Chance in two long strides, slipping his hands between Chance’s waist and the door to unfasten his pants. Rory couldn’t wait long enough to pull them and his lover’s boots off any more than he could take the time to remove his own clothes. He knew he would be doing well to make sure Chance was stretched enough before Rory took him.

With Chance’s jeans shoved down and out of the way, Rory popped the cap on the lube and slicked up his shaking fingers. He put the lube in his shirt pocket then grasped an ass cheek in each hand and spread Chance wide open, sucking in a breath at the sight of that tight little knot of muscles hidden between the firm globes.

“Rory.” Chance’s voice was rough and urgent as he pressed his ass back into Rory’s hands. “Please, I need you filling me up…ahh, God!”

Rory twisted the finger he had inserted inside Chance’s resistant hole, pushing until he couldn’t go any further. The heat from Chance’s rippling channel sent a shudder through Rory—he had to get his cock buried inside that satiny vise as soon as possible. Still, he made himself slow down, fucking Chance with just one finger until he heard a whispered plea for more. Only then did Rory push against Chance’s snug hole with another finger, applying firm pressure until the clenching ring relaxed enough to allow entry.

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Rory’s cock leaked and throbbed painfully, the need for release making him relinquish his grasp on Chance’s ass to unfasten his own jeans. His other hand kept a steady rhythm, thrusting and twisting his fingers, curving them to brush over Chance’s prostate. The moans falling from Chance’s lips each time Rory rubbed that gland were addictive; Rory knew he would never get enough of them any more than he would ever get enough of the sight before him. Chance spread open, taking Rory’s big callused fingers and loving it, his whole body begging for more…

Rory slid in a third finger rougher than he would have wished, unable to be gentle. He felt like his entire body was on fire—sweat slicked his skin, his muscles were quivering and his balls ached with the need to come. Chance still felt so tight, his inner muscles clamping down so hard on Rory’s fingers that sometimes he was forced to hold them still.

“Damn, Chance, I need in. Too tight, maybe—” Rory gritted his teeth. “God, fuck!”

Chance arched his back and pushed, rotating his hips in a circular move that Rory knew, if done while his cock was buried deep inside, would bring him to his knees. “Do it, baby. Fucking need it.”

Rory reached for the lube and tried to open it with his injured hand, not daring to pull his fingers from Chance’s warmth for fear the little opening would snap back tight and become damn near impenetrable. He finally pulled the cap off with his teeth, then poured a glob right onto his cock before snapping the cap shut.

He tossed the lube carelessly behind him, too focussed on what was happening between him and Chance to worry about where the tube landed. Rory quickly slicked on the viscous stuff and pulled his fingers out of Chance. He lined his cock up to the wrinkled ring of muscles and pushed, unsurprised at the resistance encountered.

“Just do it, Rory,” Chance ordered, eyes closed, arching his back to push his hole against Rory’s cock.

Feeling almost brutish, Rory locked his arms around Chance’s waist and thrust hard.

He heard dual strangled gasps as his cock breached Chance’s body, then his cock head was in. A surge of his hips had his dick forging through the searing tunnel, each rippling move of that gripping flesh branding him, sucking him in deeper and deeper until his hips rested against sweat-slicked skin.

Rory held himself motionless until Chance’s breath turned from harsh pants to softer ones. He slowly began pulling back, watching as his cock slid almost entirely out, feeling RORY’S LAST CHANCE

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each pulsation of protest against his sensitive skin.

It felt so good, so much more than anything Rory had ever expected, as though all the nerve endings in his body were centred on his cock. The sensations as he drove his hips forward again rushed through him in a ferocious wave of passion so intense it stole his breath and had spots dancing before his eyes. He buried himself fully and started to pull back again when a needy whimper slipped from Chance.

“Oh, shit, I can’t… I have to move.”

“Yessss…” Chance rotated his hips as he had when Rory’s fingers were stretching him.

Rory yelled, the sound pulled from his chest and belly at the exquisite swell of pleasure that surged from his cock to his balls then spread through his body like a wildfire. Christ, he knew now that fucking Chance was going to kill him—nothing that felt like this could be survived.

Rory flexed his ass and thrust his cock in fast and hard, pumping into Chance in an increasingly bruising manner—it was a certainty that his hips and Chance’s ass would be sporting some colourful proof of their mating tomorrow if not sooner.

“Rory, baby.” Chance’s voice was thready with need. “Touch me, please. I ache.”

Rory gripped Chance’s cock, feeling the copious amount of pre cum on the mushroomed head. He began fucking into Chance erratically, driven by his body’s needs as he worked the fat dick in his hand.

“Oh, fuck, fuck, Chance! Never…” Rory’s brain shot white-hot as Chance’s inner muscles clamped down hard, trapping Rory’s cock, keeping it buried to the hilt in that searing, clenching tunnel. “Never…not like this—“

Liquid heat spilled onto Rory’s hand as Chance’s dick jerked, filling the air with the scent of cum. Waves of spasms shook the man’s body as he groaned low and long, cock still pulsing, emptying with spurts of cream.

Rory ground against Chance’s ass then rammed his hips forward trying to get deeper, farther as tingling pleasure spread from his tight balls to his cock and back up to the base of his spine. He couldn’t yell, couldn’t breathe. His climax surged and his cock spilled jet after jet of spunk into Chance’s ass as those silky smooth muscles clenched again and again.

Rory did the only thing he could do and held on tight to Chance as his cock pulsed and emptied into his lover’s body. Behind his lids little black dots grew bigger, threatening to do the very thing he feared and take him to his knees. Rory released Chance’s dick and grabbed RORY’S LAST CHANCE

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onto his other arm, clutching his forearms and leaning heavily against Chance. He had to lock his knees to keep them from hitting the floor.

Eventually he became aware of the fact that he was squashing Chance against the door.

Chance’s shallow breaths told him the man was being squeezed and squished uncomfortably even though he never said a word. Then again, Rory panicked, maybe he couldn’t.

Rory loosened his hold and stepped back from Chance so fast they both stumbled backwards, arms flailing for balance, tangling themselves in shoved-down jeans and elbows and boots. Rory managed, barely, to grab Chance and toss him onto the bed then Rory was landing beside him, feeling ten kinds of a fool for forgetting about the fact neither of them had shucked all their clothes.

Rory groaned and flopped onto his back, arm slung over his eyes, certain Chance would think him a horny kid who couldn’t hold it together long enough to get their clothes off. Christ, he’d gone after the man like a starving person would tuck into a steak.

No control, no finesse, just hormones and need. Fuck. He felt the bed shift right before he heard the thud of one boot then the other hitting the floor. Rory started when he felt hands on his chest unbuttoning his shirt. He lifted his arm just enough to peek out from under it.

Chance smiled in a lazy, sated way that had Rory’s heart pinching. As he watched his lover, he saw there was no anger or disgust on Chance’s face. No, the man looked pleased and a little smug judging by the wink he gave Rory.

“Think you can get up and get naked, baby? I could use a shower and a certain someone to rub my back.”

Chance’s eyes were glinting with a teasing light that broke through the knot of fear and insecurity Rory had felt engulfing him. This man, Rory knew, had an almost frightening impact on his emotions—but he wouldn’t back away for the world. Sitting up, he smiled at Chance, reaching out to stroke a finger over the older man’s tanned, stubbled cheek.

“Whatever you say, boss. Whatever you say.”

 

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Chapter Twelve

Chance started the shower, giving Rory the time to get his clothes off. He was still feeling a bit boneless after the way Rory had fucked him—Christ, he couldn’t remember ever having such an erotic experience before. Rory had taken charge and Chance had let him, willing and eager to take a submissive role to Rory’s demanding alpha outburst. Chance understood it—the younger man had needed to be in control after talking about what had happened to him, and Chance had certainly enjoyed the hell out of it. He’d held himself so tightly in check for so many years that letting go of all control had been a near-orgasmic experience in itself—and holy shit, Rory could fuck like a man possessed. Just thinking about it had Chance’s knees feeling weak again.

Rory stepped into the bathroom distracting Chance from his thoughts.
Hard to think,
period, with all that taut naked flesh on display.

He felt unsettled inside, as weakened by the emotions flaring up as he had been by the physical act between them. Looking at Rory now, at his guileless blue eyes that couldn’t hide his thoughts or feelings, Chance felt something still inside himself.

“Rory…I…” Chance gave in and reached for Rory, pulling him in close. He tenderly stroked a curl off the younger man’s sweaty brow. How could he explain these new feelings that had grown over the past weeks? Chance wasn’t sure he could. He tipped his chin up, bringing his lips to Rory’s plump mouth.

With the pressing need temporarily sated, Chance was able to savour the feel of Rory’s swollen lips against his own. He cupped the back of Rory’s neck and head with both hands as the younger man’s arms wrapped around his waist, pulling their upper bodies together until nothing could slip between them. The taste of Rory’s mouth was thrilling—Chance licked deeper into Rory’s moist heat, tongues brushing against one another languorously.

Chance was so lost in the kiss that he had no idea how much time had passed. “Come on, Rory.” Chance stepped back and grinned. “I’m afraid the water may be cold now. You want to wait a bit to shower?” Chance stuck his hand under the shower spray and quickly pulled it back out. “Shit!” He glanced back to see Rory’s lips twitching with amusement.

“Little cold?”

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“Damn near freezing. It’d definitely wilt your weenie.”

Rory looked startled for all of two seconds before he burst out laughing. “Oh, Christ, Chance!” Rory swiped at his eyes as he shook his head. “I seriously did not need that image—or the phrase ‘wilt your weenie’—to be stuck in my head.”

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