Commitment Issues by Ali Ryecart
Chapter Twenty-Three
Elliot
We make it back to the cottage with seconds to spare before the sky erupts in an earth-shaking thunderclap. The storm that’s threatened has rolled in but instead of clearing the air of electricity, it only seems to ramp it up.
“It’s amazing,” Freddie says, standing at the open door to the verandah.
Overhead the sky bursts into light, its split-second brilliance searing itself on the eyeballs, and leaving black spots dancing.
“Turn the lights off. I really want to take this in.”
I do as he says, and come and stand behind him. I’m captivated, but not by the storm.
Freddie, his lips slightly parted, stares up into the raging sky. Even in the darkness I can see the light shining in his wide eyes.
“The Vikings thought storms were the gods arguing.” He turns to look at me, just as another blast rips the sky apart. “The electricity in the air, can’t you feel it? Dancing over your skin, and fizzing in your blood?” His words are little more than a whisper, his eyes locked onto mine. “It’s amazing, beautiful…”
“It is, but not as much as this.”
I curl my palm around his neck, sliding my hand through his heavy hair, feeling the heat of his skin.
“Or as this,” he murmurs, before he crushes his lips to mine.
Another thunderclap, another crash, ripping through all the restraint of the past days. We fall upon each other, starving men presented with a feast.
Tongues tangle and teeth clash, spit smears our lips, desperation driving us on as we dive deeper, wrenching apart only to suck in ragged breaths.
“I want you,” he breathes, rocking into me, his swollen cock rubbing against mine. “Knowing you were next door, it’s been agony.”
“Bed,” I growl, grabbing his hand and hauling him to the bedroom.
Overhead the storm rages as we rip our clothes off, flinging them into the corner, leaving us naked. Whether I’m pushed or pulled, I don’t care, as we tumble onto the bed, our kisses hard and savage, our moans and cries filling the room. His body’s a perfect fit to mine, his skin warm and slick with sweat.
“Oh fuck,” I gasp as his strong arms pin me to the bed, as he straddles me, rocking against my swollen, throbbing cock. His own, long and thin, bobs against his stomach, trailing a gossamer-thin thread of precum.
I run my hands across his chest, and over the compact muscles of his stomach before wrapping my hand around his cock. He moans and a tremor shivers through his body as I ease my hand up and down, smoothing the foreskin over the engorged cockhead.
Throwing his head back, arching his spine, he ruts into me.
“Want you to fuck me, Elliot,” he growls, as he throws himself forward, his arms either side of me and taking his weight. His hair hangs down over his face, but I can see his smile and it’s ten shades of wicked, and Jesus but I could come just from that.
To be inside him, to feel his heat, to feel him squeeze down on my cock. Haven’t I wanted this from the first moment I set eyes on him?
He pulls away from me and bounds off the bed and, rummaging in his bag, produces a condom and a small bottle of lube.
“These come later,” he says, climbing back onto the bed, nuzzling into my neck, nipping and licking as one hand trails over my chest, circling one nipple then the other, his touch tingling through my body.
I seek his mouth, needing to taste his lips again, as I wrap my arms around him and drag him in close.
“Oh yes,” he moans, and something in those two little words release everything that’s pent up and savage within me.
In one hard move I shove him onto his back, not breaking but deepening the kiss, unable even for a second to sever the connection between us. I want him. I want to possess and own him. I want to fuck him into tomorrow and the next day and the day after, leaving my mark on him. I want, I need, to make him mine.
In the darkness I smile down at him. The storm still rumbles all around us, flashes of light illuminating the room and our naked bodies. He stares up at me, his eyes wide and shining, his lips parted and damp, his chest heaving. I ghost my lips over his.
“I am going to fuck you, I’m going to fuck you slow and hard. Is that what you want, Freddie? Do you want to feel me move inside you?”
I don’t wait for an answer as I slide down his body and come to his gorgeous cock. Sweeping my tongue over the damp head, sticky with precum, I earn myself a ragged groan, and I glance up at him. He’s flung one arm over his face, as he bites down on his plump lower lip.
Breathing in deep, I drown myself in the salt tang of our arousal before I close my eyes and sweep my tongue up the length of him, sucking and licking and flicking the swollen head. He whimpers and mutters something incomprehensible as I lave my tongue over his juicy slit, in between lavishing him with little sucks and kisses.
“You like that, Freddie?” I murmur as I nuzzle into his groin, rubbing my face against the rough hair at the base of his dick. “And what about this? Do you like this, too?”
Pushing his legs further apart, and up, bending them at the knee, I open him up; my breath trembles through me at the first sight of his entrance. Slowly, I tease the tip of one finger over his hole, feeling the nervy flutter of muscle, as I circle around the edge, thrilling as his body responds to my touch.
I push a little harder, a little deeper, until I breach the tight ring of muscle, up to the first knuckle.
“Elliot.” Freddie moans my name, sending a shiver across my skin and more heat to my cock.
I slip my finger free, and Freddie groans his protest.
“Not yet, baby, not yet,” I breathe. I suck on my finger, tasting his dark heat. I want and need more. Easing his legs further apart, grabbing one of the pillows, I push it under his hips, canting them upwards. Closing my eyes, I press my face into him, finding his hole and heat and his dark wetness as I breach his muscle with my tongue.
“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck.”
Freddie’s words are wrenched from him as I dive deeper into his body. Licking, sucking, kissing, opening him up, fucking him with my tongue. Behind my closed eyes the world flashes brighter than the storm above. I press a finger into him, then another, the two of them battling with my tongue. Under me, he squirms, and mutters, and curses.
“Elliot, please.” His voice is pleading and plaintive. I look up and he’s staring down at me, need and want and longing lighting up his face. “Please,” he says again, as he drifts the fingers of one hand across my hair. My heart hitches and all I can do is nod, not trusting myself to speak. I rip open the condom, ready to sheath my dick.
“Let me do it.” Freddie twists up onto his knees.
Taking the condom from my hand he looks up at me through his lashes, a hint of the shyness that always seems to hover around him, and even though we’re naked together and about to fuck ourselves senseless, that small look tugs at my heart. He rolls it down my length, before smoothing over lube, his touch sending shockwaves through every muscle in my body.
Outside, the storm still thunders overhead, the wind whipping up and grabbing at the thin voile curtain from the open verandah door. Taking his face between my palms I kiss him, long and slow, taking my time, tasting and savouring his plump and juicy lips. He sighs into my kiss, and I could carry on kissing him into eternity, but my dick has other ideas when Freddie runs his fingers all the way along my length. I switch him around and tug his hips up so he’s on all fours, his high, round arse sticking up in the air and his back arched downwards. My heart goes wild, its crazy beat reverberating throughout my body.
“So beautiful, so damn gorgeous,” I breathe as I knock his legs further apart, spreading him wide, his hole a dark shadow.
I squeeze my dick, tapping it, bringing back the little hardness that’s been lost as the condom had closed down on me. Rip it off, chuck it aside, go in bare, feel the rasp of skin on skin, feel his heat… Jumbled words from some place dark in my brain. Nothing between us but hot wetness… My fingers itch to obey the primitive urge, but I suck in a deep breath and shove the clamouring voices aside.
Shuffling forward, slipping my hands to his hips, I press my body to his. We fit together as seamlessly as though we’ve been cut from the same material. I rub my cock along the crease of his arse, shimmying across his hole, pressing the tip to his muscle.
I smile as Freddie makes some strangled, needy noise, and he slumps slightly, his weight shifting, as he clamps his hand around his dick.
“Ah-ah.” I bat his hand away. “That’s mine, baby, just like this is for you.” Lined up, I push into him.
Freddie cries out as I breathe his name, shaky on my lips.
One hand on his hip, the other I snake around his waist. His body quivers, his harsh panting filling the sultry air around us. I still my hips, killing the thrust. I want him, I want him so badly. I want to fuck and rut and hammer myself into him. I want to make him cry and scream my name as his body pulses out its climax, but most of all I want not to hurt him.
“Shush,” I whisper, peppering small kisses on the back of his sweat-damp neck. “If it’s too much, we can—”
His head jerks around, our faces in the dark so close we’re burned by the furnace of our breath.
“Too much? We can — stop?” His voice is rough and rasping, every ground-out word a challenge. “I said I wanted you to fuck me,” he snarls.
“And so you did.” I thrust hard into him as I grasp the challenge.
The room fills with his curses and moans, his guttural, primal cries, his gasps and whimpers. His skin against mine’s hot and slippery with sweat. I ram my hips forward, burying my face in his neck as I suck hard on his flesh, marking him as mine. I suck harder, stretching the skin tight between my teeth as he pushes back into me, his arse pummelling into my groin.
“Oh, Jesus, oh fuck,” I mutter. My brain’s all but short-circuited. My orgasm’s rising within me, a tide of heat that’ll overwhelm if I let it. I slow and, pulling out almost to the tip, I squeeze down on the base of my cock. The tide that threatens to break the barrier recedes, and the mist fogging my vision clears — but my heart all but bursts from my chest when I see my cock half-buried between Freddie’s pale arse cheeks.
“Elliot? Are you okay?”
Freddie looks at me from over his shoulder, concern lacing his words.
I answer with a kiss, and beneath my lips I feel his soft smile. On his warm, damp skin, my grip on him slips and we lurch forward, and collapse in a heap on our sides.
“Fuck,” I grunt, as beneath me Freddie giggles. “Think that’s funny, do you?”
“You poor old boy, haven’t got the strength to support your own weight?”
“Screw you.” I shove him on his back, doing my best to sound gruff and outraged through my smile.
“Yes please,” Freddie says, laughing.
I push his legs high and wide, ready to wipe that laughter from his lips, as I raise myself to my knees between his spread legs, and I line my cock against his hole once more, before I squeeze myself into him, thrusting forward harder and deeper, bottoming out in his hot, tight heat.
“Not laughing now? Hmm?”
Hitching his legs higher, I hook them over my shoulders so his calves press into me. His arse cants so far up it hovers a handful of inches above the bed. My heart thunders as I piston into him, almost pulling back out before thrusting back in, harder with every snap of my hips. My cock disappears into his arse, the slap of skin on skin, grunts and moans and ragged, heated breaths, and all the time, Freddie panting my name over and over. I ram myself into him harder and faster, sweat dripping from my brow, into my eyes, making them sting and burn, and all the time Freddie crying my name.
His dick, dripping precum, slaps against his stomach and smears his skin, and I wrap him in my hand, slather his juice along his length, feeling his heat as he fucks into the tunnel of my fist as I fuck into the tunnel of his arse.
“Not gonna last, not gonna last,” he grinds out, whipping his head from side to side as he begins to unravel like a ball of wool. He thickens in my hand as I jack him harder and faster, in time to the frantic, manic pace of my hips. His thrusts become erratic jerks before his hips stiffen as hot slippery cum explodes from him, coating us both, pulse after pulse after pulse.
Freddie’s orgasm is the starting pistol for my own. Heat rises in me, spreading out from deep in my belly, searing through my groin and I cry out as I pump my climax into the condom buried deep within him.
“Jesus,” I grunt, letting my head drop forward.
My breath’s coming in deep gulpy gasps, my chest’s burning and my limbs are quivering as though I’ve sprinted a marathon. Already deflating, my dick slips from Freddie’s hot, tight arse, as at the same time his ankles slide from my shoulders.
I wipe a shaking hand across my brow, my heart beating out a wild and dangerous rhythm. Freddie’s sprawled, dazed and sweat-soaked, and covered in his own cum. At some point the storm’s passed, leaving the sky clear. Bright moonlight fills the room, and all I can do is lie still, and gaze into his soft, unfocused eyes. And then he smiles, that shy smile that gets me every time.
Running a finger through the sticky wetness, he presses it to my lips and I close my eyes as I suck hard, drinking down his release before I lower my head and with steady, regular, even swipes of my tongue, I lick him clean.
“Do you reckon we can have that cuppa now?” Freddie’s voice is sex-rough, but there’s soft laughter there too, as he slips his fingers through my hair.
I rest my cheek on his stomach and revel in his touch.
“Soon,” I say, my words as bone weary as my body. “I’ll race you to put the kettle on… might even be a packet of custard creams…” My words drift into nothing as I surrender myself to sleep.
