Waiting: Waiting

by Quettaser

Hands, pressing him down, deeper into the bed, scorching across already burning skin. Sweet moans, ghosting across his neck, pouring into his ears, his own breath quivering in response. Heís melting, he knows it, and soon heís going be nothing more than a pile of shivering nerves, blown apart by the sheer force of his release.

And he wants it, wants to let go, let himself be shattered. All he needs is another touch, another tug and heís gone, but as much as he pushes, arches, twists he canít get what he wants, needs.

But then Gregís pulling out so slowly, turning him inside out, only to slam back in and maybe heís wrong about what he thinks he needs. Because this feels better than anything heís ever had, his hot cock deep in his ass, his presence hovering above his body so close, but never quite making contact, and itís a small sacrifice to make if he canít touch, canít choose when to let go.

And heís still moving so slowly and for a second he wonders where Greg finds the control, because normally heís the one who canít help himself, canít stop, pulling Nick with him until theyíre drowning in ecstasy. But then Greg brushes against that spot deep inside, white light flashes behind Nickís eyes and he clenches tight and Gregís steady rhythm falters so maybe heís not that in control.

And heís still desperate, sitting on the edge, waiting, waiting for Greg to touch, to push him over, to allow him to let go, but no matter how much he moans, how much he writhes, he canít find release. But he must have made some difference, because now Gregís lifting his one of his legs, throwing it over his shoulder and he doesnít remember ever being that flexible, not that it matters, because Gregís moving faster and pushing in deeper and he may not need to be touched before he comes, it feels so good.

Greg leans lower over him, stretching his leg more, letting lips graze his ears and his hands trail up his arms, brushing over bound wrists, caressing them. ďDo you like it when I fuck you?Ē he breathes, pushing harder, faster.

ďLove it, so good, baby, so good when you fuck me,Ē he pants in return, raising his head as far as he can, turning it, letting his tongue taste neck and sweat and Greg.

Greg shudders at the touch and pulls back, a smile on his face and lets his hand trace down Nickís chest and finally wrap around Nickís cock, so hard and hot and ready for release. He lets his thumb graze the head and thatís all Nick needs to push him over, into oblivion.

Heís straining again, but he feels his leg slide off Gregís shoulder and arms wrap around his back, hold him tight, while he rides out the last of his orgasm, until he stops quaking and heís left limp on the bed.

Gregís still inside of him, hot and sizzling, and he takes a moment, raising a hand to his mouth to taste Nick before starting again, moving faster than before. He leans down again, arms stretched out over Nickís, weight coming to rest on his chest and he wants so badly to wrap his arms around Gregís back, feel the scars under his fingers, press him tighter, but heís so spent he canít bring himself to pull against his bonds.

And there are those lips at his ear again, gently suckling, hot breath rushing over already boiling skin. Gregís hands graze the ties once more. ďI could keep you here forever, fuck you slow, fuck you fast, make you come so hard you pass out, make you mine.Ē

He lets out a long groan, and even though heís too tired and raw he canít stop his hips from rising up to meet Gregís erratic thrusts. And then heís trembling, shuddering above him as he comes and Nick can feel it, feel the hot spurts filling the condom in his ass, and watching Gregís face makes him twitch and clench again, heís never seen anything sexier, more beautiful.

But then thereís emptiness and cold, Greg leaving the bed to throw out the condom and the air cooling his heated skin. He feels the pull of sleep, but his arms are still above his head and he knows heís pulled at least one muscle and heís going to hurt tomorrow. But when Greg comes back to bed, unties him and lies down next to him, placing soft kisses along his jaw, he realizes heíll take all the sore muscles in the world if it means he can sleep next to his lover.

When he goes into work the next day, heíll blush every time he reaches for something, the red bands around his wrists flashing bright for all the world to see. But then heíll come home and Greg will kiss them, lavish them with his tongue, and he wonít be able to stop himself from thinking about doing it again, because he likes it, likes the waiting, likes the way the seconds stretch into infinity, because he wants what they have to last as long as possible.

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