Bankers' Hours (30 page)

I tilted my face away from Tristan’s because I didn’t want him to see my disappointment, my sadness, or my pain from the feeling I was being used. I knew Tristan didn’t see it the same way, but I did. This wasn’t what I wanted. Tristan pushed it in and pulled it out a few times but then withdrew the silicone penis entirely.

“You win.”

I snapped my head back to face him. “What?”

He climbed between my legs and settled his weight on me. “You win,” he reiterated. He kissed me on the mouth, and this time I gave in fully to my senses. When he had been fucking me with that
thing
, I couldn’t let myself feel it. I didn’t want to think about the sensations I felt, most of which had hurt. But now that he had tossed it aside, I gave myself over to everything I felt mounting on the inside. Tristan. I wanted Tristan.

I curled one leg around his hip and ran my foot up and down his body, ass, and leg. I moaned as he kissed my neck and reached between us to play with my balls. “Tristan,” I begged. “I want you.”

“Okay, baby. I know you do.” He leaned back and grabbed the condom off the nightstand. After unrolling it down his cock, he repositioned himself. “Hold your legs back. This isn’t going to be easy, Grant. You’re not ready.”

“I don’t care,” I said, feeling all my emotions flooding to the surface. I truly didn’t. I wanted to feel
him
inside me, no matter the cost or pain.

“Okay,” he said reluctantly, pressing the tip of his cockhead at my entrance. He paused and locked eyes with me. “Just breathe. Remember to breathe.” He pressed harder, and suddenly the sting I had felt from the dildo resembled a tiny pinch compared to what went screaming through my body.

“Ahhh!” I cried.

“It’s not in yet, baby. Do you want me to stop?”

“No. No,” I panted. “Keep going.”

He did, and the amount of pain radiating from my ass exceeded anything I’d ever experienced before. Tristan wasn’t joking—he was hurting me.

He came back down over me, positioning my legs on his shoulders. I could barely take a breath. It was like every cell of my body was frozen, waiting for the pain to subside, but it wasn’t. It was hot as the sun, splitting me in half like a blowtorch slicing through butter. I whimpered, sucking in a sudden breath as Tristan pushed in just a little bit more. Then, almost like he knew what I needed, Tristan gently took ahold of my chin and turned my face to his.

He kissed me gently and then whispered, “Relax. Everything will be okay.” He rubbed his nose over mine as he slid in the opposite direction, pulling out a fraction before pushing back in.

I gasped and held my breath again as the pain intensified.

“Breathe, Grant,” he urged, kissing my neck, my ear, and my jaw.

He pressed in again, but it hurt less. Tristan moved slowly but rhythmically, in and out; he filled me with himself, and as he slid his arms around my body to hold me tight, I found my breath. “Tristan,” I rasped. I whimpered and cooed, running my hands up and down his back, the motion between us so powerfully vivid it was as if lightning jolted all my nerve endings from the inside out.

“So tight. You’re so fucking tight, Grant. I’m not… going to… last.” He grunted as he thrust.

I came in white-hot waves. The electricity dancing through my body exploded through my cock, spilling my emotion through cum, sweat, and tears. I held on to Tristan as he growled and jerked his hips, jutting hard into my ass one last time as he collapsed on me, panting.

After a few moments, as our breathing slowed to normal, Tristan pulled back and slipped from my body to remove the condom. He tossed it in the trash can and then collapsed on his back next to me, eyes closed.

My legs were difficult to unbend after being over his shoulders, but the soreness in my thighs and calves was nothing to the throb in my ass. My orgasm fading, the sharp agony of being penetrated returned with a vengeance. But as soon as I reconsidered what I had insisted he do, Tristan whispered those three words that made the pain worth it.

“I love you,” he whispered.

I was already crying, tears streaming down my face from the raw emotion my orgasm produced, yet fresh tears warmed my cheeks as I curled into him. I pressed my sticky body to his, tucking my face next to his neck. Tristan hugged me and caressed my arm. Whether produced by postcoital euphoria or genuine emotion, I knew I had to say it in return.

“I love you too.”

His arms tightened around me, and then moments later he was snoring quietly. I closed my eyes and continued to cry as I fell asleep in his arms.

I WOKE
up sometime later on my side, with Tristan wrapped around me. We had shifted positions in our sleep, but he had not let go of me. His arms were around my back and mine were curled between my chest and his. His legs were tangled with mine. The sticky-wet mix of sweat and cum, slick between us, made me long for a shower, but I didn’t want to move. Instead, I kissed his collarbone and then his throat.

Tristan stirred. “Mmm,” he murmured.

I ran my tongue up his Adam’s apple and then nipped with my teeth.

He let out a throaty chuckle and rolled over me. His smile was debauched, and he kissed me deeply, holding nothing back. One of his legs was between mine, and he nudged me with his knee. Tristan took ahold of my hands and held them above my head as he lifted up to gaze down at me. He licked his teeth and said, “Take a shower with me.”

He jumped off the bed suddenly, but his smile was bright and mischievous. He waved me to follow. “Come on.”

I got off the bed, but not quickly. My ass hurt. My body hurt. My legs wobbled as if I was using them for the first time after being in a hospital bed for a year. I glanced at the clock. It was 5:09 p.m. Where had the day gone?

From the look in his eyes, I thought we would do more in the shower, but all he did was wash me from head to foot.
Maybe he’s not into shower sex?
He stroked soapy fingers over my asshole several times and even pushed one digit in, but it was obvious he wasn’t trying to get me off. He was cleansing me of our lovemaking evidence, and some little part of me was sad. I liked the feeling of what we’d done, even if I hurt all over.

Tristan washed himself quickly, and I found the courage to lean in and lick his nipples. He’d done it to me several times, and I’d liked it; now I wanted to feel his nipples in my mouth. He groaned and grabbed my back as I nipped him. I kissed my way up to his neck and pressed my body tightly to his. “I want you,” I whispered in his ear before sucking on the lobe. “I want you again.”

I wasn’t sure where the hunger came from, but it was taking over my good sense. Good sense said, “Rest awhile, maybe for days,” but hunger had a louder voice, and that voice said, “Sex. Now. Fuck. Me. Please.” I made sure he understood how badly I wanted him by dropping to my knees and taking his ample cock into my mouth. Well, only the first few inches—the dang thing was too large for me to swallow whole. I needed more practice.

Tristan groaned and held the back of my head as I bobbed, but after a moment he pulled back. “Stop,” he said. “Let’s go back to bed. I want to try something. I think it will help soothe the pain in your ass.”

I stood up and gave him a look. “How did you know?”

He lifted an eyebrow and smirked. “Really? You’re going to pretend that what I did left no residual effects? I heard you crying out, Grant. I thought I was ripping you in half.”

“Then why didn’t you stop?”

“I was only about halfway in. I didn’t think I’d hurt you permanently, but I know that wasn’t easy for you.”

I kissed his chest and neck, needing to touch him. In fact, I wasn’t sure how I’d ever pull myself away after this. “No, it hurt a lot.” I looked him in the eyes. “But I still want you to do it again. I
need
you to do it again.”

He kissed me and smiled. “Then I will,” he announced, turning off the water. “Dry off and bring the towel so your splooge doesn’t get all over the bed.”

I followed him in, and Tristan asked me to get on the bed. “On your hands and knees this time.”

“But I like watching you,” I said, pouting.

“You’ll like this,” he said with a wink. He got behind me and rubbed my ass with both hands. “Try to relax, okay? I promise I’m not using a dildo or a butt plug, nothing artificial. Just my fingers and my….” He paused, long enough for me to get curious and crane my neck to look at him, and then he finished, wickedly adding, “tongue.”

My eyes bugged out. “Tongue?” I asked as he dove in. Just like there was no comparison for what it felt like to be fucked for the first time by a dick the size of a medieval cudgel, there were also no words to express how it felt to have his hot, slick tongue probing my asshole. For one thing, I had never known how sensitive my sphincter was. I began babbling incoherently as my stomach turned to goo and my arms gave out. I fell forward, my face on the pillow and my ass in the air. I couldn’t see him, because I had no strength to keep my eyes open, but I imagined his face was buried in my ass. I felt the scrape of teeth, which told me he was opening wide so he could press his tongue in as far as he could reach. He stretched my hole with his fingers or thumbs—I couldn’t tell—but nothing hurt as he laved my hole, my crack, and even the skin from my balls all the way back up.

I thought I would melt into a puddle on the bed from the pleasure, and then suddenly he stopped. Cold lube ran down my crack. Tristan gasped and croaked, “I can’t stand it, Grant. I need to fuck you.” He was panting harder than I was.

I hardly had time to consider what he’d said before he pressed in. Yes, that was his cudgel sinking inside me, impossibly deep, painfully wide. My breath hitched as I held it, paralyzed by the sensation of being split in two.

Tristan groaned as he caressed my ass. “So tight.”

I cried out as he pulled out and pushed back in. It felt deeper than the first time, and his pleasure rumbled down his chest and into my skin. Out. In. Deeper again. Something slapped against me, and I realized only after it happened again that it was his balls. That meant he was all the way in this time. Tristan was giving me all nine and a half inches, and I was taking it.

“That’s it, baby,” he encouraged. “Relax and enjoy it.” He moved his hands all over my backside, back, and thighs. “You feel so good.”

It definitely hurt, but my heart swelled, feeling proud of myself for being man enough to take something so large up the ass. My ass. He was also thrusting harder than the first time, and God, he was hitting something inside that sent other sensations through my body. Sensations that told me to jerk myself right the fuck now because I needed to come or die.

I lifted up on one hand and took care of my need. As I finished, Tristan yanked my hips backward and growled like a grizzly bear as he jutted forward one last time.

THE NEXT
morning, I could barely walk.

I STOPPED
by Tristan’s shop on the way home from work. He’d said the exterminator had given the all clear as far as his earwig infestation was concerned, but Will wasn’t coming in until Friday, just to make sure. His paranoia had to do with getting the little buggers inside his clothes while crawling under a car to retrieve something he’d dropped. Tristan couldn’t blame him.

“Hey, Grant,” Wes greeted me with a smile as soon as I walked through the door. “I’ll go get him.”

“Okay,” I said, lifting the hinged counter and stepping into the office space where customers weren’t allowed to go. I felt so naughty.

Tristan came bounding through the door with a joyful smile taking over his face. “Hey baby, what’s up?” He kissed me and wrapped his arms around my lower back.

“I’m still in pain, so be gentle,” I whispered. He loosened his hold. “Thanks. I came by to ask you if you want to go to dinner at Mel’s house?”

He shrugged. “Sure. When?”

“Um, tonight?” I felt guilty, and I know it came across in my expression. First, we’d gone to my mother’s at a moment’s notice, and now Mel’s. I knew it was a lot to ask.

Frustration flashed across his face, but it was quickly transformed into resignation. “Sure,” he said. “If you want to, I’ll go to dinner with anyone. Besides, I really want to meet your best friend.”

“Thank you.” I kissed him and smiled. “It would be great if you could finish up here and take a shower first. He lives over an hour away. I’d really like to leave as soon as possible.”

Tristan’s eye twitched, and he released me. His expression was back to frustration. “That’s fine, but I hope you realize that every time we do this, I get further behind at work. I’m going to have to work this weekend to get caught up. I own the business, Grant; if I don’t do the work, then it doesn’t get done.”

“But you have Wes, Jeff, and Will. Let them do it,” I suggested.

It seemed logical, but his lips pressed into a tight line. “Grant, I pay the bills. I do the books. They don’t. I don’t expect you to understand this, since I barely know you, but this job is my life.”

He might as well have slapped me. I backed up and said, “Okay. Then work. I’ll call Mel and tell him we’ll come over another night. I’m sorry I bothered you.” I was back on the other side of the counter and out the door before he caught up to me. I wasn’t moving very fast, so I wondered if he had to think about whether or not he should stop me from leaving. That kind of deliberation bothered me more than a little.

“Grant, wait!” he fussed, grabbing my arm as I attempted to slide into the front seat of my car.

“What?” I asked, none too politely.

“I didn’t mean to say it so… so sternly. I
do
have a lot of work, but I’ll wrap things up here and head home to take a shower. I’ll meet you at your place as soon as I can.”

“Thank you,” I said blandly. I wasn’t going to make him think he could be forgiven so easily. I hadn’t appreciated his tone.

He let me go, and I went home to wait for Tristan to be ready.

He was at my house half an hour later.

MEL INVITED
us in with a strained smile. I narrowed my eyes and realized the problem even before I asked the question. Cindy wasn’t there. Mel shut the door and led us into the living room.