Sinner Like Me by Avril Ashton

Twelve

Syren still couldn’t make himself speak. He rubbed the towel over his still-damp hair and looked around. Kane was in the bathroom brushing his teeth. After saying his piece, he’d helped Syren out of the tub and dried his skin. He’d said what he had to, and it was Syren’s move.

Did he want to make that move?

He’d seen the earnest need in his husband’s eyes. Kane wanted what he’d asked for. He wasn’t put off by the story Syren shared. His stomach still churned with nerves as he sat on the edge of the bed. He wanted to give Kane what he needed, but it couldn’t be all about him doing it just for Kane.

Did he want it? Did he want to experience making love to his husband, sharing something special like that? He knew how he felt when Kane made love to him, when Kane seated himself so deep in his body Syren choked on him. He knew what it was to break into a million pieces simply at Kane’s touch. The feeling was indescribable.

He wanted Kane to feel it.

Syren laced his fingers in his lap as water ran in the sink in the bathroom. He’d pulled on his last pair of clean underwear stuffed in the duffel bag they’d brought with them to Brazil. The bright purple hip-huggers were a snug fit, covering him fully in the back, sporting a bow in a paler shade on the front, the same pale-colored dots all over, and lace overlay on both sides. He paid attention to the details in his panties.

The faucet turned off in the bathroom. He crossed his ankles and bit his lip. There really was no denying the anxiety mixed liberally with excitement in his gut. He never thought he’d do it again, touch someone in that way, but Kane wasn’t just any old someone. His husband didn’t ask for much, so Syren would give him—give them—this.

He took a breath when the bathroom door opened then closed behind Kane as he stepped fully into the bedroom. He only looked at Kane when his husband stood directly in front of him, near enough to touch, but still giving Syren space if he wanted. Kane wore only a pair of black briefs, his toned thighs on display, as was the chest Syren loved to stroke, all tanned and muscled with only a smattering of hair. He loved Kane’s body, loved his skin.

He lifted his gaze higher, meeting Kane’s gaze. Kane just watched him, expression open, devoid of expectation. His hands hung loosely at his sides and they just eyed each other. Syren got to his feet and took the one step that brought them chest to chest. Other than a darkening of his gaze, Kane’s expression didn’t change, so Syren smiled up at him. A hesitant, crooked smile.

“What do we do now?” He felt like he was doing everything for the very first time. Everything. At that moment, Kane felt like a stranger, too. Not in a bad way, though. Like a familiar someone, a person he wanted to know, to learn, to discover.

“What do you want to do?” Kane murmured.

“Kiss you.” He looked up at Kane from below his lashes. “I want to kiss you.”

He heard Kane’s heavy inhale, saw the slight quiver in his jaw. “I want that, too.” So Syren bent and pressed his lips to Kane’s chest, the left side, above his heart. Kane made a sound, like a surprised explosion of air from between his lips. Syren circled his waist and kissed him again, this time on the right side, before tracing his tongue over his collarbone. Kane shuddered, and Syren could tell his husband wanted to grab him, but he held himself back, allowing Syren to set the pace.

He stepped back. Kane’s hands were fisted at his sides, the knuckles white. His cock was outlined against the black of his underwear, so hard Syren swore he saw the thick veins as they pulsed for him. He responded to Kane’s like a beacon. His panties felt tight as his dick stretched the material. He licked his lips.

The pulse in Kane’s throat sped up.

“Get on the bed,” Syren said softly. He had to clear his throat, clear the cobwebs out before continuing, “Face down.” It felt weird to take charge. Yeah. Weird. But the fucking happiness on Kane’s face, the way he took a flying leap and landed on the mattress, face buried in the pillows, that was everything. Every. Fucking. Thing.

He just stood there for a while, staring at the man on the bed. The man in his life. The man who was his life. This was one of those pinch yourself moments. Pinch yourself, make sure you’re not dreaming. But he wasn’t. This was no dream—the ache in his fucking balls, the bang of his heart against his ribs, the butterflies in his stomach. Oh, those made it real. So real.

Finally tearing his gaze away, he searched through the duffel bag until he found the bottle of lube. They’d long learned never to leave the house without lube, and he was a happy camper. He turned back to the bed. Kane was still lying face down, but his right leg was rubbing restlessly against the sheets. The same sheets he held tight with both fists. He didn’t do a thing except wait patiently for Syren to make his move.

He got on the bed. Kane tensed slightly then his spine relaxed. Syren placed the lube next to them on the bed and draped himself over Kane, covering his back with his front, head to toe.

Kane shifted, in slow motion, rubbing his hot naked skin against Syren’s.

Syren groaned. Contact. Blessed, sexy, fucking skin contact. Kane groaned, ass lifting, pushing back into Syren’s groin. He kissed Kane at his nape then down, licking his spine, never breaking the straight line that led to the twin indents above Kane’s ass. He tasted clean, salty skin, inhaling the scent he’d be able to identify in the middle of a stinky landfill, blindfolded. His husband’s natural musk.

At the base of Kane’s spine, Syren hooked two fingers in the waistband of Kane’s briefs and tugged them down, placing kisses on the skin he exposed. He nipped and sank his teeth into a taut ass cheek while smoothing his palm over the other. Kane’s heavy breathing sounded extra loud in the room, as did the low grunts he made. Syren pulled the briefs all the way down and tugged them off, then he sat up.

“Ass up more.” He scooted back as Kane moved, his knees widening as his back arched and his ass rose higher. “Hm. Damn, Marshal.” He shuddered. “You don’t even know what you do to me, what you’re doing to me right now.” He smoothed a hand over Kane’s flank.

“I might have an idea.” Kane sounded muffled by the pillows.

Syren smiled. He might. He moved back into position and traced Kane’s crack with a finger. It was Kane’s turn to shudder. Syren pulled apart his ass cheeks and stuck his tongue out, flicking it over that dark, wrinkled hole.

“Fuck!” Kane’s body quaked under Syren’s hands. “Oh, man.”

Syren licked him again. And again. And with each swipe of his tongue, Kane grew louder, his groans getting deeper as he pushed back on Syren, searching for more. Syren gave him more, burying his face in Kane’s ass. He kissed him there, tasting him, wetting him. He teased that hole mercilessly until it loosened for him, until it relaxed enough for him to poke his tongue through.

“God.” Kane’s voice and scent surrounded him.

Syren rocked hard onto the mattress, pushing his aching groin into the firm surface. Friction. He needed it. He fucked the bed while he ate Kane’s ass. He heard the sloppy, wet sounds he made, heard both his hungry, starved moans and Kane’s ecstatic cries, and didn’t want it to end. He wanted to stay where he was, on his knees, fingers gripping Kane’s ass cheeks, holding them apart, while he ate his husband, tongue burrowing in and out of that untouched hole.

“So fucking good.” Kane humped his face. “So good.”

Heat washed down Syren’s spine. All he wanted was to please Kane. That was all he wanted. He grabbed the lube and drizzled some of it onto Kane’s crack, watching it make a slow trek to his hole. Then he flung the bottle to the side and eased a finger in. Slow going. The muscles clamped down on him instantly, holding him in a death grip.

He paused, but Kane made a sound. “Do it,” he said harshly. “Just fucking do it.”

So impatient. “You’re topping from the bottom, Marshal.”

“I’ll show you topping from the bottom if you don’t get those fucking digits inside me.” His ass contracted with the words, squeezing Syren’s finger.

“Shit.” He pushed in, sank deeper. The intense heat inside Kane was unreal. His muscles were rippling, pulling on Syren’s finger until he was all in. Last knuckle. He twisted the finger.

Kane yelled out and there went those Goddamn ripples. Syren wiggled the finger, thrust in and out, and soon Kane was rocking with him, hips rolling with him.

“More.” Kane lifted his hip higher, a hand going under his body to tug on his shaft. “I want more.”

Syren eased in another finger and sound gurgled in Kane’s throat.

“Oh, God. Yes.” Kane’s head thrashed back and forth on the pillow. “Fuck, yes. Move them.” Syren did, thrusting in and out. “Like that. Hell yeah. Just like…ungh.”

Syren fucked him with his bottom lip caught between his teeth, humping the mattress as heat singed his spine. He didn’t know how he managed to hang on to his control, going slowly when he ached to just plunge his cock into Kane and ride him into the next day. He might want that, Kane might want it, but things needed to be kept at a slow pace. This was Kane’s first time and Syren wanted to make sure everything was perfect.

He inserted another finger, added more lube. It was now three fingers that he used to stretch Kane, twisting them, plunging in and out when the muscles gave for him. With every squeeze of Kane’s ass around his fingers, Syren drew closer and closer to losing his mind and coming on himself. He nudged Kane’s prostate with the tip of a finger.

Kane shook. “Shit!” His hips bucked as he stroked himself. “Babe…Oh, God.”

“You liked that?” Syren grinned. “How about now?” He did it again. Harder.

Kane yelled. “Fuck! Fuck!” His pants reverberated through his body as he looked over his shoulder at Syren, fire in his eyes, sweat beading on his forehead. “Don’t play. I want you.”

“You have me.”

“Not inside me, I don’t.”

“Yeah?” Syren leaned forward and sank his teeth into Kane’s ass cheek. The muscles around his fingers went crazy, contracting. “You want me inside you?”

Something dark and dangerous flashed in Kane’s eyes. “Three seconds,” he growled. “Otherwise I’m just gonna fucking take it.”

Syren pulled out his fingers, pushed his panties down until the elastic hooked under his balls, and lubed up his cock. “Oh, you’re gonna get it all right.” He winked when Kane growled again. “On your back, Marshal.” He stroked his cock leisurely, shaft jumping when Kane dropped his gaze and licked his lips. “I want you on your back.”

Kane turned over in a blink, arms and legs splayed wide like he was making a snow angel. Syren shook his head.

“Look at you,” he said hoarsely. “Looking like a high I wanna be on. Making me wanna climb you like a fucking tree.” He fisted Kane’s dick, swiped his thumb over the head, and Kane threw his head back, undulating.

“Do it.” Kane jerked when Syren squeezed his erection. “Hard, because I need it like that. Deep, ’cause I want it like that.”

Syren touched him, touched his hole, pushing a lubed finger in and twisting, then he pulled that out and lined himself up. He stayed there, rubbing himself over Kane’s hole, his flared head shiny with lube and pre-cum, sliding up and down Kane’s crack.

Kane rocked, one knee bent, grabbing the sheets. “Syren.”

“Yeah, Marshal?” He flicked his hair out of his eyes, met his husband’s glare.

“Remind me to kill you when we’re done here.”

In answer, Syren pressed into him. Oh, the fucking torture. Veins bulged in Kane’s neck. His eyes remained open and Syren saw the painful expression wash over his face. He froze.

“Marshal.”

Kane gulped. “Fucking hell.” He held Syren’s gaze. “Give me more.”

Syren did, sinking in inch by slow, heated inch. Kane clamped down around him, and Syren’s mind blanked at the raw pleasure. He dove deeper, seeking out the source of that mind-numbing sensation.

Kane’s chest rose and fell in rapid beats. Syren pulled back, feeling those muscles cling to him, hindering his retreat. He thrust forward and Kane’s body bowed, coming off the bed.

“Jesus. Yess.” Kane hissed. “Fucking do that again.”

Syren did, thrusting sharp. Kane’s erect cock flopped back and forth on his hard stomach as he jerked and bounced, fucking himself back. Every movement wrapped around Syren’s shaft in delicious ripples, racing up the back of his leg and spine. He moved, sliding in and out, losing himself in all that welcoming heat.

“Ung. That’s the shit.” Kane arched. “Talk to me,” he said. “Give me your words.”

A broken sound left Syren’s throat. “Fuck, Marshal. I don’t have words.” It was all he could do to keep himself from blasting off and leaving Kane unfulfilled, to stay upright when he wanted to just sink into all things Kane and lose his mind. His back ached, his knees cramped, and his balls protested their prolonged release.

“Yes, you do.” Kane reached up and touched his face. Syren turned and pressed a kiss to his palm. “I love hearing you talk, so talk. Tell me.” He lifted his legs, wrapped them around Syren’s waist as he thrust back.

Syren lowered himself onto Kane’s chest, inhaling sharply when their damp skin made contact. He took Kane’s mouth, fucking his tongue deep without waiting, taking his mouth like he took his ass. Kane met him move for move, thrust for thrust, in every way. His equal in everything.

“I’m in love with you.” The words burst from him.

Kane reciprocated with a pained chuckle. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

Syren buried his face in Kane’s neck, slowing up the tempo, grinding against Kane as his husband bucked. Kane’s arms circled him, held him tight, caging him in, as he locked his ankles above Syren’s ass.

“I can’t describe the way you feel,” Syren whispered in his ear. “I can’t describe the way you make me ache.”

Kane’s fingers tunneled through his hair, hooking and tugging hard, the way Syren liked. His pulse leaped and he slammed forward, burying himself in Kane’s hot depths.

“You make me ache.” Kane nipped his ear. “You.” He slid both hands down to cup Syren’s panty-covered ass, kneading him, squeezing hard. Then he pushed Syren into him, held him there, and plunged up and down on his cock.

Syren threw his head back and cried out, nails digging into Kane’s shoulder. “Yes. Yes.” He pressed closer, rubbing against Kane’s cock trapped between their bellies. “God, Marshal.”

Kane tugged his head down with a hand in Syren’s hair. Their lips met somewhere in the middle, teeth banging, tongues lashing around each other. Kane pulled his hair, gave him that sweet pain he loved, and Syren slammed into him.

Kane grunted, kissed him deeper.

Syren slammed into him, keening when those muscles massaged him just right.

Kane broke the kiss long enough to bark, “Fuck!” Then they were kissing, and Syren was banging away at his ass, plunging in, grinding their hips together then pulling out to do that nasty shit all over again.

Fuck was right. It was good. He broke the kiss. “It’s good,” he panted against Kane’s lips. “So good.”

“Yes.” Kane bit his shoulder, bit him hard. “Fucking good.”

The pain of the bite ricocheted through Syren and coalesced in his balls. He pistoned into Kane, his thrusts uncontrollable.

“Right there.” Kane arched beneath him, his pre-cum sticking them together. “Gah…yes, right there.” His fingers yanked on Syren’s hair. “Hard.”

Syren was a man possessed as he reared back and slammed in, a punishing stroke he knew his husband would love. Kane went wild underneath him, bucking up, head thrown back, groans rising higher and higher. He lost his mind there too, left all that shit by the wayside as he gave himself over to the sensation of loving on his husband, while Kane loved on him.

Kane spasmed around him. Virgin territory. All his. Fuck. That thought made him want to fucking pillage and plunder. He grabbed Kane’s face in both hands, held him still until the lust fog over Kane’s eyes cleared a bit.

“This is mine.” His. He pulled out, until his cock head was barely inside, then slammed deep. Kane’s eyes closed on a shout. “I’ll be fucking it on the regular, planting a flag in there to let everyone know I’ve laid claim to it.”

Kane’s mouth opened and closed. He touched Syren’s hip, clawed at him, and Syren retreated then slammed in again. His eyesight shorted out, his balls churned, heavy with the need for release, but he wanted to see Kane break first. He angled his hips, thrusting with sharp, short strokes.

Kane’s fingernails raked down his back. “Don’t. Fuck. I can’t—”

“You can.” Syren smoothed a hand over Kane’s chest, caught one of his nipples and scraped it with a fingernail. “I want to see it, watch you fragment for me.” He swiveled his hips. “Because of me.” He bent and licked Kane’s mouth, licked his bottom lip then caught it between his teeth. “I love you, Marshal. Wanna fall asleep in your ass and wake up fucking it.”

Kane made a sound, half laugh, half sob. “Shit. You talk too much.”

“You love when I talk.” Syren whispered, “Come for me. Let me see you.” He pulled back slightly as Kane’s insides started trembling. He plunged in at an angle calculated to nail his prostate. He must have hit it because Kane’s eyes widened impossibly and his head fell back as he vaulted off the bed.

“Son of a bitch.” Kane clutched the sheets as cum shot, creamy and thick, three spurts across his chest and torso. His ass spasmed, painful. A velvet fucking vise, heated for Syren’s pleasure, guaranteed to rob him of his senses.

He let go, tumbling after Kane, the orgasm ripping through him. He heard his cries from far away, unaware of anything but the snap of his hips as he buried his cock inside his husband, emptying his balls, filling him up.

Kane kept contracting around him, milking every dollop, ass hungry as he sucked him dry. Syren’s back protested the position he was in, his thighs trembled, and he collapsed onto Kane’s chest, Kane’s cum acting as glue, keeping them locked in place.

Kane grabbed him—always with the grabbing, that one—and kissed him. Syren whimpered for him, kissing him back with slow twists of their tongues. Kane panted when they broke apart. He pressed his forehead to Syren’s, hand on his chin, and they breathed each other in. The scent of their sex hit the air and Syren inhaled deeply, taking it into his lungs.

“I wish I had pretty words right now,” Kane said hoarsely.

Syren grinned. “I don’t really care for pretty words.”

“No?” Kane lifted an eyebrow. “I loved the look in your eyes when you entered me. You were fucking possessive and in charge, and you fuck the way you kill…mercurial. How’s that for pretty words?”

Syren shuddered, heat washing over his face in a blush. “Damn. Fine.” He mewled. “I love pretty words.”

Kane stroked Syren’s cheek with a finger and winked. “We’re definitely doing it again.”

“Killing?”

Kane’s lips quirked. He shook his head and brushed a thumb over Syren’s bottom lip. “The other one.”