Page 84 of Contested

“Okay,” Sebastian said with a tight nod.

Marcos pushed further.

The pressure changed slowly. The head slid in properly, then more of him, and Marcos had to bite down on a sound that rose too quickly in his throat. Sebastian’s ass closed tightly around his cock, gripping him in a way that made Marcos’ head dip forward. His arms shook once where he braced himself.

Sebastian didn’t stop him again. His palms stayed on Marcos’ thighs, and Marcos moved with that pressure, letting it guide him. When Sebastian’s hands pressed, he slowed. When they eased, he moved another inch. His cock sank in gradually, slick and tight, every bit of progress dragging a low sound from one or both of them.

Marcos’ breathing turned rough. He had not known it would feel like this.

Heat closed around him, slick and tight, and Marcos had to hold himself still before instinct took over. Sebastian’s eyes stayed on him, half-open and dark, mouth parted around the stretch, and the trust in that hit harder than Marcos knew what to do with.

Sebastian’s moan broke louder when Marcos finally bottomed out, his pelvis resting firmly against Sebastian’s ass. The sound tore through the room and into Marcos’ chest. He froze there, buried fully inside him, leaning over Sebastian with both hands bracing him by Sebastian’s side.

For a second, neither of them moved.

Sebastian’s head was tilted back against the bed, mouth open, chest rising hard. His legs pressed against Marcos’ shoulders, hands still on Marcos’ thighs.

Sebastian opened his eyes. “Fuck me,” Sebastian breathed. “You’re so fucking deep. Shit.”

“How’s it feel?” Marcos asked, bending further forward so his lips hovered above Sebastian’s. His body was tight around Marcos in a way that made every breath feel dragged out of him.

“So good,” Sebastian whispered, his hands leaving Marcos’ thighs and wrapping around his back.

He raised his head and brought his lips to Marcos’, keeping it soft and tender.

The kiss slowed everything briefly. Sebastian’s mouth moved against his, open and warm, and Marcos let himself sink into it, elbows bending, chest lowering until their bodies pressed closer. The angle shifted him slightly inside Sebastian, and the small movement drew a rough sound from both of them.

Sebastian shifted his hips again, and it pulled a grunt out of Marcos as he felt Sebastian’s walls tighten around his cock.

“Fuck me,” Sebastian moaned. “Please.”

The final word barely made it out of Sebastian, and Marcos felt it in his chest.

Marcos kept his lips close to Sebastian’s as he slowly pulled out and then pushed back in.

The final inch pushed a loud moan out of Sebastian. His head tipped back, exposing his throat, and Marcos’ mouth followed without thinking, lips dragging over the skin there while he did it again.

Slow out. Slow in. Each thrust deliberate enough for Marcos to feel everything: the tight grip of Sebastian’s body, the slick slide of lube, the way Sebastian’s thighs trembled where they rested over his shoulders.

Sebastian reached for another kiss.

Marcos gave it to him. Their mouths met messily this time, less tender, harder to keep steady as Marcos repeated the motion. He fisted the sheets beside Sebastian’s head, hips moving faster as the kiss deepened. Sebastian’s arms tightened around his back, nails dragging over skin, and Marcos lost the neat edge of the rhythm he had been trying to hold.

“Harder,” Sebastian said, throwing his head back.

Marcos didn’t have to be told twice.

He straightened, one hand dragging up Sebastian’s leg and finding his foot. The other pulled over Sebastian’s stomach to feel him tense underneath him as he thrust harder and faster. Sebastian’s body took him differently at that angle, tighter and deeper, and Marcos had to grit his teeth against the force of it.

Sebastian made a broken sound, hips lifting to meet him. That was enough to push Marcos further.

His hand tightened around Sebastian’s ankle. The sight of Sebastian spread beneath him, naked except for those socks, legs up, cock hard against his stomach, mouth open around each sound Marcos dragged out of him—it cut through whatever thoughts he had left.

Marcos turned his head, just enough for the sock at his shoulder to brush against his cheek. His nose pressed briefly against the soft cotton near Sebastian’s ankle as he thrust in again, and his whole body reacted.

“Fuck,” he groaned, grip tightening.

Sebastian’s eyes opened, unfocused at first, then sharpening when he seemed to notice where Marcos’ face was. His mouth curved for half a second, smug even through the wrecked look on his face, before the next thrust knocked the expression loose.