Page 129 of The Rut in the Road

I gasped, rocking into the pillow.

His hands tightened, holding me in place, as he licked again, his fingers kneading the muscles of my glutes as his tongue lapped, then pushed, then swirled, then—Oh, God.

I made some sort of desperate sound.

I could feel my belly tightening, feel the muscles in my body shaking.

“Raj!” I gasped out.

Another long lick. “Hmmm?” he asked, and I could feel his breath against the skin of my butt.

I decided to be brazen. “Fuck me,” I told him.

He growled into my skin, then moved away.

I felt the bed lurch, then heard the sound of a drawer, quickly followed by cursing and the sounds of tearing heavy paper—presumably the condom box—the ripping of perforated foil, and thesnickof a bottle cap.

His hands spread me again, and he licked a few more times before I felt one finger pushing against me. I lifted my hips slightly, pushing back.

“Fuck, Rayn,” he breathed, and I could feel the slight rocking of the bed as he stroked himself while pressing his slicked finger in deeper, then back, pushing and twisting and stretching the muscles.

I let out a low moan as he slid in a second finger, and the sound was answered by a hissing growl from Raj, his fingersmoving more quickly as the pace of the bed rocking increased slightly.

I squirmed. “More,” I demanded, breathless, my whole body trembling.

He let out a strangled sound, and one hand slid up my spine, the weight of his hips pressing against mine, his heavy cock pushing against my ass.

“Yes,” I begged.

He made a whimpering noise, then backed away—I almost complained, but I heard the sound of the condom wrapper, then the lube cap again.

“You are so… fucking… perfect,” he panted.

And then I felt him, hot and hard, bigger than his fingers, although he’d been diligent about stretching, but I knew it was going to hurt—not a lot, and certainly not anything I wasn’t more than willing?—

I cried out, not in pain, but in pleasure, as he pressed inside me. He stopped, and I sucked in just enough air to gasp out “More.”

He groaned, then kept going, the burn forcing me to squeeze my eyes closed, feeling tears pressing at the backs of my lids, butoh, God,it was so good. It wasn’t that I didn’t care about the pain, Ilikedit—this kind of pain, anyway. I didn’t know why—maybe because of what it meant or because I was already so hard my cock ached or because it was what and where it was, I had no idea, but it wassogood.

I pushed back into him, and his fingers tightened on my hips. “God, Rayn.”

I pushed again, and he stopped trying to go slow, pressing the rest of the way into my body with another moan.

And then he waited.

Fuck that. “Move,” I demanded.

“I—” He was panting, his fingers twitching against the flesh of my outer thighs.

“Fuck me,” I repeated, and he let out a whine, but obeyed.

I stopped thinking, stopped speaking, stopped being able to do anything except feel. His hands on my hips, the slap of his thighs against my ass, the friction of the pillowcase against the head of my cock as I rocked in time with Raj’s thrusts, and,God, the feel of him inside me, pushing, stretching, and,fuck, the electric shock of pleasure every time he hit my prostate.

“Rayn,” he half-panted, the tension in his voice telling me he was close to losing control.

I wanted him to. A little.

So I pushed back, clenching the muscles in my body so that he’d feel it?—