The Broken Triangle (34 page)

“Why would being in love with a Zen master of sex freak me out?”
Patrick had snuggled in close, carefully not rubbing against Vin’s cock.
“You’re different, Vin, not gonna lie, but when did I ever complain about different? Wait all you like. I’ll be here.”

Now Patrick shifted backward a few inches, bumping into Vin in a way that was most definitely not innocent.

“Mm,” Vin said. “I like waking up with you in my bed.” He pressed his lips to the back of Patrick’s neck in a soft kiss that was probably meant to be affectionate instead of arousing, but it was first thing in the morning, and Patrick’s cock was, as usual, happier about being awake than the rest of him.

He closed his hand around Vin’s wrist and tugged it down to his swelling erection. “Mm is right. I like it too.”

“You know this is why I set the alarm for when I did, don’t you?” Vin slid his hand under the waistband of Patrick’s borrowed sweatpants and closed it around Patrick’s cock.

Patrick groaned. “I think I might be able to learn to live with getting up at dawn. Unless you’re just teasing me. You aren’t just teasing me, are you?”

“No way.” Vin bit Patrick’s neck gently—maybe a little too gently, but it was early, so Patrick was willing to forgive him. “Teasing would imply that I don’t have any intentions of following through. And I have every intention.” He stroked Patrick’s cock. “See? Following through.”

Rocking his hips back against Vin’s, Patrick let his ass meet Vin’s erection. “Does that mean you’re gonna fuck me?”

“Do you want that?”

Patrick huffed. “I’m assuming you’re asking questions you know the answers to because you think it makes you look smart. Yeah. Always. Now. For future reference, that’s always going to be the choice I make.”

“You might not like the way I do it.” That note of uncertainty was back, but Patrick knew how to make it vanish. If he smacked it on the head hard enough and often, maybe it’d get the message and stop popping up for air.

“Are you going to skip the lube?”

“No, of course not.”

“Or go bare?”

“No.”

“Hurt me because you’re too impatient and can’t wait to get balls-deep in—” Patrick paused. “Hmm. Doesn’t sound like you.”

“I get it. I’ll stop angsting over my kinks scaring you off.”

Patrick smiled, even though Vin couldn’t see him, preening because there was only amusement in Vin’s voice now. “Good, because I’m going to love it. Getting fucked is one of my favorite activities, even with someone whose idea of being considerate is a reach-around once he’s shot his load. If you got inside me and didn’t move an inch, you’d still be a better lover than ninety percent of the guys I’ve slept with.”

“Inside and not moving? It’s like you read my mind,” Vin murmured against the skin under Patrick’s ear, his lips brushing it, his breath warm. “I said you might not like it because you’ve always gone in for having your ass hammered, and I just don’t see the appeal.”

“Sometimes you will,” Patrick told him. He was more than willing to go along with Vin’s way of operating. The slow-rising intensity packed one hell of a punch, after all. Didn’t mean he wouldn’t crave a wall-slam and a quick, rough ride now and then.

But not now. Still drowsy, curiosity as potent as arousal, he wanted this first time to be orchestrated by Vin.

“Maybe.” Vin didn’t sound convinced. “But we’ve got an hour or more before we have to get up, and I want to spend every second making love to you.”

“Yes, please,” Patrick said.

“Good.” Vin let go of Patrick’s cock—Patrick whimpered in protest—and patted his hip. “Take off your clothes.”

That
was more like it. Patrick hurried to do as he’d been told, not too tired to note that Vin did the same. Naked in bed together, having sex before work… Getting up before noon might not be his idea of a perfect day, but a leisurely morning fuck brought it a heck of a lot closer. Patrick kicked his pants toward the floor and squirmed around to kiss Vin, who let him—but only once.

“Uh-huh,” Vin said. “Turn around again. I liked you where you were.”

“Ooh, baby, that’s it. Order me around.” Patrick obeyed, getting back into the position he’d been in before, then looked over his shoulder at Vin. “Like this?”

“It wasn’t a complicated request,” Vin pointed out. The feel of him, pressed naked to Patrick’s backside, was delicious. He tugged gently at Patrick’s balls, making Patrick murmur appreciatively and spread his legs, but Vin slid his fingers lower than anticipated. “Sometime I might want to use a dildo on you. A nice big one.”

Patrick shivered at the idea. “Would you?”

“Why do you keep asking? When do I say stuff I don’t mean?”

“Good point.”

“I like the idea of you being filled and stretched with me able to play with the rest of you.” The matter-of-fact explanation, a world away from the rote dirty talk Patrick was used to, had Patrick lost for words, so turned on by the idea that he could only gasp, sucking in air in an attempt to stop his head from spinning.

“You—”

“On your hands and knees, maybe, butt up in the air so I could see your hole, nothing hidden. Run my finger around it through all the lube and scratch at it just a bit, make you feel it. It’d be tight as a drum.”

“Oh God.”

“Could stare at that for the longest time.”

“Tell me you’d do more than stare.” Patrick’s heart was thudding, but the thoughtful delivery of Vin’s plans was doing a lot to slow it down, redirecting the storm of desire into a determination to make this last.

“I’d work it in and out, watching you take it, but I’d push it in all the way in the end, fill you up. Move on to your balls. Cover them with lube so they roll in my palm, slippery until they got tight—you know how they do—and then I’d—”

“Do it.” Patrick moved restlessly, squirming. “All of it. Please, Vin.”

“Don’t have a dildo,” Vin said regretfully.

“Fuck!” Patrick bit the pillow under his head, the cotton dry against his tongue. “Fuck,” he repeated, this time muffled.

Vin kissed his shoulder. Turned on as he was, it was as much as Patrick could have handled just then. He really wanted to spin around and kiss Vin’s mouth, have Vin’s tongue stroking over his, but he knew if he did, he’d probably come in thirty seconds. Plus Vin would be annoyed, and he didn’t want that.

“You’ve driving me crazy,” he said instead, his voice shaking.

“Good. That’s what I want. I want you crazy for me.” Vin’s fingers ghosted featherlight over the tip of Patrick’s cock, dipping into the slick wetness there, and Patrick whimpered pitifully.

“Can you come without being touched?” Vin asked. He sounded curious, like he was asking a question in science class.

Patrick wasn’t sure how he felt about being an experiment, but Vin was teasing him to the point where his toes were curling. “Yes, but it hasn’t happened much. Couple of times, maybe. I’m gonna come right now if you don’t stop.”

Vin’s hand moved to settle on his hip. Patrick shuddered in a combination of relief and regret. Vin said, “Is it okay if I get some lube?”

“As long as you aren’t thinking about rubbing it into my hair,” Patrick said. “Or making me drink it.”

“Okay, one, ew. And two, ew. In your hair. That’s awful. Please tell me no one’s ever done that to you.” Vin wasn’t reaching for the lube; he was waiting for Patrick’s answer.

“No, nothing like that. I just have an active imagination. I’ve always thought it was one of my better qualities,” Patrick said.

“You have plenty of those.” Not a trace of sarcasm, even though Patrick had been joking. What good qualities did he have? Make that what good qualities did
Vin
think he had? Coming up with a few possibilities distracted him enough to conquer the urge to drop his hand to his cock and give it the firm touch it craved.

The lube was cool, but the goose bumps on Patrick’s arms were caused by the caress that spread it over his balls. Vin’s palm cradled them, just as he’d promised, the excessive amount of lube turning it from a familiar sensation into something new.

“When they get this slippery, it feels like they belong to someone else.”

“You’ve done this with—” Patrick broke off. He’d had dozens of lovers, and Vin wasn’t complaining; asking Vin to act as if Riley hadn’t happened would be unfair.

“I’ve done this to myself.” Vin rocked his wrist, jiggling Patrick’s balls. “I’m so fucking good at jerking off. You have no idea.”

“Show me one day?” Patrick couldn’t think of a hotter sight than watching Vin bring himself off, spinning it out for the longest time, eyes closed, hands languidly drifting over a rock-hard cock.

“One day. Or we can do it together.”

“See who can come last?”

“I’d win.” Vin sounded positive. And amused.

His competitive side challenged, Patrick retorted, “I’m going to start practicing. With a stopwatch.”

“You do that,” Vin said. He followed this mild response with sliding his slick hand up to grip Patrick’s cock while at the same time slipping his other hand down and pushing what felt like two fingers into Patrick’s hole.

Patrick gasped and arched, his entire body going from mostly relaxed to electric-tense in seconds. “Oh my God. God. Vin.”

Vin didn’t stroke him, just held him there, caught between his hands, as in control of Patrick as anyone had ever been. Patrick could feel himself trembling. He didn’t even know if he was turned on—no, of
course
he was turned on, painfully, agonizingly turned on—or shocked or what.

“Still think you might win?” Vin asked calmly. He didn’t move either hand, though the one wrapped around Patrick’s erection tightened the tiniest amount, which was all it took to make Patrick moan.

“No. Oh God, Vin, I’m gonna come.”

“Not yet.” Vin didn’t move. How was it even
possible
to stay still like that? “What do you think about when you don’t want to come?”

Patrick
always
wanted to come. “Um.” It was so hard to think with Vin’s fingers inside him, stretching him the perfect amount, making him tremble. “Something boring. Cleaning.”

“You think about cleaning during sex?” Vin sounded unconvinced. He pushed his fingers a little bit deeper, rubbing firmly over Patrick’s prostate.

“Yeah. No. Vin, please. God.” He was expected not to come
and
be coherent? Pick one, because he sure as hell couldn’t manage both. He couldn’t move either, not an inch, because Vin’s fingers were exactly where they should be. They coaxed—no, demanded—a response Patrick was willing to give. If he shifted and wriggled as he wanted to, he’d lose that perfect spike of pleasure sizzling through him like an electric charge.

Stay still. Concentrate. Ride each wave and hope the next didn’t pull him under. He could do that. Maybe.

“Cleaning does involve a lot of polishing.” Vin accompanied the words with a slow sweep of his hand along the length of Patrick’s erection. “Getting into every nook and cranny.”

Patrick had been wrong. Vin’s fingers hadn’t been in the perfect spot before. Now, with a slight twist and a small push deeper, they were. His surrender was a fall from a mountain, a rush of wind taking his breath, his limbs flailing. He jerked like a hooked fish, cried out Vin’s name, and clutched at the pillow, losing the ideal angle but saving himself from coming before Vin wanted him to.

Not disappointing Vin mattered to him more than coming—and when had that ever been the case?

“I don’t think I can wait a lot longer.” He felt like it was important to be honest. God, the need to move his lower body, to fuck himself on Vin’s fingers, was shockingly strong.

“I might not want you to,” Vin said thoughtfully. His fingers pushed deeper, stretching Patrick more than he’d been before. “Is this too much?”

“Not even close,” Patrick gasped. “I mean, it’s good. It’s perfect. But I can take more.”
Please, give me more.

“So three would be okay?” Vin slid his fingers from Patrick’s body. Patrick could barely keep himself from sobbing, but Vin didn’t wait long, just rubbed his fingers along Patrick’s lube-slick balls before plunging what had to be three fingers into Patrick’s hole.

Patrick cried out, trembling on the verge of release. “Please,” he whispered. “Please, Vin.”

“You want to come?” All Vin did was ask questions. It wasn’t fair. “Say it.”

“I want to. I want to come. I want—” That was it; Patrick couldn’t wait anymore, his body too caught up in the pleasure Vin was giving him to hold off for more than another second or two. As soon as Vin’s hand starting moving on Patrick’s cock he was gone, openmouthed, eyes closed, cock jerking in Vin’s grip as his orgasm overwhelmed him.

Vin didn’t leave him, there throughout it all in a way Patrick wasn’t used to. Coming was so fucking personal. Even on the rare times when he came at the same time as the other guy, they felt locked away in their own worlds. This wasn’t like that. Vin surrounded him, drawing out Patrick’s climax with slow thrusts of his fingers and caresses that gradually gentled until he held Patrick’s cock in a light clasp, comforting without irritating the sensitized flesh.

Vin didn’t speak, thank God, just kissed Patrick’s shoulder and neck, his lips finding places to press against that sent aftershocks through Patrick. He let himself enjoy the moment, knowing that this wasn’t the end but a resting place. Vin had promised him an hour or more.

“Not going to be able to walk after this,” he mumbled.

Vin chuckled. “One glare from Shane will stiffen your knees.” He withdrew his fingers, taking his time, not wrenching them free and leaving Patrick empty. “And I’ll stop anytime you tell me to.”

Patrick rolled to his back, smiling up hazily. “Stop? Are you kidding me? I want to see you come.”

“I want to be inside your ass when I do.” Vin snagged a tissue from the box beside the bed and wiped his hands, then took some more to deal with the wet streaks on Patrick’s stomach.

It felt strange to be taken care of like this, but Patrick liked it.

He glanced down. Vin’s cock was hard, temptingly flushed, so ready to be touched or tasted.

“Yeah,” Vin said, his voice unsteady. “I need you. Want you.”