The Broken Triangle (35 page)

“But you’re still not gonna rush?” Patrick stretched his arms over his head, spreading his legs, inviting Vin to do whatever the hell he liked, posing unself-consciously. “Fine. Doesn’t mean you can’t touch me.” Vin wasn’t the only one who could paint pictures with words. “Don’t have to use your hands. I’ve dreamed about your hair on me, whipping across my chest or wrapped around my cock. Or just brushing my skin when you kiss me, all silky and ticklish.” He smiled dreamily. “Love your hair. I want to kneel behind you and brush it when it’s wet and heavy, hanging down your back, get every strand smooth. Brush it until it’s dry and clinging to my hands like it loves me and doesn’t want to let go.”

“Patrick…”

“Or use your cock. Rub it on me, over my mouth, not letting me suck it, just letting me smell it, taste it. All over my face and tell me not to move, just lie there and take it, feel it on my cheeks, smooth and wet at the tip.”

He was babbling, desire rising when he saw Vin’s face twist with longing.

“Anything, Vin. Trust you. Want you. Love you. Just don’t stop…” Stop what? He didn’t know. “Don’t stop,” he repeated, helpless and lost.

“I won’t.” Vin settled down beside him and pulled him into a comfortable embrace, Patrick’s head resting on Vin’s shoulder. At that moment, it was exactly what Patrick wanted, to be held, Vin’s hand rubbing his back gently. “This is so good.
You’re
so good.”

“Am I?” It was pitiful, begging for reassurance, but Patrick couldn’t help it. He’d worked so hard over the years not to care when guys didn’t want to sleep with him more than once or twice, when none of them ever seemed to want him as a boyfriend.

“Of course you are. I love you.” Vin turned Patrick’s face to look at him. “I’ll tell you as many times as I have to.”

“I know you love me,” Patrick said. He did believe that. “I’m just not sure I deserve you.”

“Yeah, well, that’s because you’re crazy,” Vin said affectionately. “I’ll convince you that you deserve me too, even if it takes years. You’ll see. We have tons of time.”

Patrick wrapped himself around Vin as best he could and kissed him—not just his mouth, though he started there, but his closed eyes, his temples, his throat and ears. Vin made appreciative sounds and slid his hand down to Patrick’s ass, cupping it, then directed Patrick’s lips to his own and went back to kissing him, long, eager kisses that had Patrick’s cock stirring with interest even though he was pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to get hard again right away.

“I don’t want to rush,” Vin murmured. “But I do want to be inside you. Is that okay?”

Patrick nodded into the next kiss. “Of course it’s okay. I want you so much. You have no idea.”

Vin rubbed his very hard cock against Patrick’s hip. “Pretty sure I do.” He parted Patrick’s lips with his own and tasted the inside of Patrick’s mouth with his tongue.

Waiting for Vin to be inside him was the crystallization of every time he’d ever held a wrapped gift and willed it to be just what he’d always wanted. He felt that same tense anticipation, undimmed by cynicism because he trusted Vin to deliver in a way Santa Claus or his mom rarely had.

Vin had to be hurting, hard for so long, still following the path he’d mapped out, but there was no impatience as he rolled on a condom, not even when he screwed up putting on the first one and had to ditch it.

“Guess you haven’t done it often?”

Vin shook his head, his hair flying. “Not really. They’re worse than tape. You can’t get hold of them.”

“Let me help you? Please?”

Patrick could put a condom on a cock using his mouth; he’d taught himself how after seeing it in a porn movie. It went down well with his one-night stands, but there was no way he was doing that with Vin—too tacky for words. He could make it foreplay, not a chore, though. It let him get his hands on Vin’s cock, close enough to kiss the tip before he covered it in latex.

Vin’s hand closed over Patrick’s, holding it against his cock. “Thanks.”

Patrick flexed his fingers, a glib reply impossible with his mouth dry with longing. Vin wasn’t hung to the point where even looking at his erection made Patrick’s ass clench, but he was hard as rock. That cock would be pushed into his hole soon, worked in and out of him at whatever pace suited Vin.

God.
God.

“You can take your time when it’s in, but get it in me now,” he said, not caring that he was flat-out begging. He fell back on the bed and spread his legs. “Like this? On my hands and knees? Tell me.”

“Like this for now.” Vin was already crawling between his thighs, but instead of covering Patrick with his body, he bent and pressed a line of kisses to Patrick’s inner thigh, slowly working his way upward.

Patrick shivered. “Please, Vin. Now?”

“Okay,” Vin said. “Now. But be patient.”

Confused as to why he needed to be patient if Vin was finally—
finally
—going to get inside him, Patrick rested his hand in the small of Vin’s back as Vin moved into position. Vin wrapped his fingers around his cock, guiding it into place. It wasn’t until Patrick felt Vin’s cockhead bump wetly against his opening, then move forward half an inch, that everything clicked. Vin was going to do this in slow motion.

“Easy,” Vin said when Patrick tensed up. “Give me time. I know it’s hard—”

“I can tell,” Patrick interrupted. “So hard.”

“Ha-ha.” Easing forward another half inch, Vin leaned down and kissed him. Patrick returned the kiss with desperate enthusiasm, wanting nothing more than to encourage Vin to lose his control, but Vin wrenched his mouth away and gasped, “Troublemaker.”

“You know it, baby. Isn’t it why you love me?” Patrick lifted his hips, and Vin shifted his weight, using a hand to pin Patrick to the mattress.

“It might be one of the reasons,” Vin agreed. “But I want you to listen to me and stay still. No moving. I’m the one doing the fucking here, not you.”

That was right. Patrick was the one
being
fucked—in theory, at least—and he was also the one who’d come ten minutes ago but was now getting hard again.

“This isn’t easy. Not easy at
all
. If I hold still, I want a gold star. Cookies. A T-shirt that says ‘I did it.’”

Vin grinned. “Where do you want the gold star? Here?” He bit Patrick’s nipple, a sharp, sweet stab of pain Patrick welcomed as a distraction, even though the throb that followed took a few seconds to fade.

“Do not do that to my cock,” Patrick said, trying for stern and failing because Vin rocked his hips, pushing deeper into Patrick’s ass. He hissed through his teeth, sweat beading his forehead as he pressed his hands against the bed, clutching the sheet to anchor himself. “Oh God, that feels good.”

Not moving was frustrating and went against every habit he’d picked up, but he couldn’t deny it heightened the sensations he was feeling. With nothing to do but take Vin’s cock, that became all he could think about, the sole focus of his attention. The tingle of his bitten nipple, the lingering taste of Vin on his lips—they existed, but like the eager beat of blood in his cock, they were background music, no more than that.

Vin’s cock. His hole. One meeting the other, filling it, being surrounded by it. Not a battle to be won, or an invasion, but a joining.

Left to Patrick, it would’ve been accomplished in a few shoves, but it wasn’t up to him, and Vin’s way was better. God, so much better. It made his heart beat frantically, his chest tight as he fought to control his rebellious body, but it also made him keen out his pleasure with every exhale. He’d never been opened so slowly, filled so completely.

Mind and body found a common goal in yielding, and his heart rate slowed, his hands relaxed, palms up, cupping air. He was floating, drowning, flying.

“Yeah,” Vin said as if Patrick had asked a question, but he hadn’t. Questions implied doubts, and he had none. He wanted this slow fuck to go on forever.

Vin pulled back again, moving at what had to be one-quarter speed, maybe one-fifth. Either way it was more math than Patrick was capable of right then—or possibly ever, if he was being honest, though if he was, it was because any inhibition he might have had left was going, going, gone. Every bit of him was focused on the deliberate strokes of Vin’s cock in and out of his body.

Patrick wanted to tell Vin he’d never been so turned on in his fucking life, to acknowledge his shock that it was possible for his body to be mastered like this. But he didn’t have the breath. He stared up at Vin’s face as Vin fucked him, marveling that Vin could be so in control. Vin was paying careful attention to what he was doing, focused on the measured movements.

“Is this good?” Vin asked, and it wasn’t
fair
that he could still talk.

Trembling, so close to a second orgasm that he could feel it in his aching balls and in his gut, in his throat, in his fucking fingernails, Patrick could only blink up at Vin in response. No talking, no way. He couldn’t talk. He could come, though. All he needed was for Vin to touch him, just the faintest touch on his dick, and he would come like the world was ending.

Please, please
. He wanted it. He needed to feel himself tightening around Vin’s unrelenting cock, to know that it was Vin who was doing this to him, giving this to him.
Don’t stop, don’t stop.

Vin clenched his teeth, relaxed his jaw again. “Not gonna touch you,” he managed to say, and Patrick whined, high-pitched and disbelieving. “Want you to come like this. You can. You said so. Do it, Patrick.”

“I can’t.” Patrick whimpered back in his throat. God, Vin wanted so much from him. “In a year maybe you’ll have trained me so I come when you snap your fingers—no, not that. Ben does that to get Shane’s attention, and it could be really awkward, but something—”

“I’m not training you,” Vin said, the interruption cutting the tangled mess Patrick’s words had become. “Is that what this feels like?”

Patrick met Vin’s gaze, then had to look away. So much heat and longing. So much love. He wasn’t worth it. “No. I need something. A touch. A stroke. Hell, even you breathing on me would do it.”

That got him a head shake. “Then you’re not ready. It’s okay if you need more time.”

Vin moved the barest amount possible to qualify as a thrust in and a pull out. The slick drag of his cock inside Patrick’s ass felt good, but the connection between that pleasure and whatever switch needed flipping to make him come wasn’t strong enough.

“How much time do I have?” Patrick asked, and as he did, he caught a look at Vin’s eyes again and this time didn’t look away.

And that was it. That was all he needed, not a touch, not even a breath. Just the certainty that he
could
that he saw in Vin’s gaze. Vin followed it up with a rough, heartfelt kiss; the pause created by their discussion melted away like it hadn’t existed, and Vin thrust into him again, more fully and a bit faster, wrenching all Patrick’s attention back to what their bodies were doing.

“God,” he gasped. “Vin. Love you so much.”

“Yeah?” Vin looked wild around the eyes, as if the control he’d been master of for so long was finally breaking free. “You too. Love you.”

Patrick lifted his ass an inch or two off the bed, searching for a better angle for Vin’s next thrust, and Vin didn’t argue. Whatever they’d been playing, the game was over, and it was just them now, just the two of them and the pleasure they were creating. It was amazing, perfect. Well, close to perfect until Patrick came, which seemed inevitable.

“Gonna come,” he muttered, because he was and because he knew saying it would make it easier. “Jesus, Vin, I’m gonna come. Just from you fucking me.
God
.”

“You’re so hot like this.” Vin was moving fast and hard and steady now. Patrick could see how close he was by the flush in his cheeks, but what really held Patrick’s attention was that look in Vin’s gaze, the one that communicated so clearly that Patrick was worthy of being believed in.

It was something Patrick needed so desperately that seeing it was what pushed him over the edge. Release curled low in his belly before striking, lightning-quick and so hot that it burned. His body contracted hard around Vin’s cock, and he cried out, shuddering as Vin’s cock drove into him again and again.

He clutched at Vin, not wanting to lose the feeling of being filled, completed, and Vin relaxed against him, his weight reassuring.

Patrick ran his hand down Vin’s back, over inked skin and bare, breathing in the mingled scents of their aroused bodies. They’d need to shower, but in these moments before words broke the fragile silence, he relished every musk-laden inhale.

“You smell good,” he said drowsily, and there was the silence shattered, but really, someone had to say something eventually, and it was probably always going to be him.

“Thank you. I think.” Vin sniffed. “Okay, if by good you mean sweaty, we both do.”

“It’s sexy. Not like stinky socks or something.”

“If you say so.” Vin reached down to where they were joined. “I should…”

Patrick sighed, resigned to the inevitable. “Yeah.”

They lay beside each other, not talking much but kissing often. Patrick’s body felt pleasantly heavy, every movement as slow as if he were underwater. Now and then a shiver would go through him, a fading echo of the ecstasy Vin had created.

“I can’t believe I made it to the end,” he confided, kissing Vin’s shoulder and getting in a surreptitious lick confirming that Vin tasted as good as he smelled. “I mean, this is me. I don’t do the whole not-moving thing. I wriggle.”

“I wondered…” Vin hesitated, then said, “There was a moment I thought it wasn’t much fun for you. That maybe you’d had enough.”

Honesty had to be the way to go, Patrick decided. “Maybe. Just for a second. It wasn’t so much that I didn’t want to. I just thought I couldn’t. That I’d let you down. Made me panic.”

Vin seemed to get everything that lay in the spaces between Patrick’s disjointed words, because the next kiss Patrick got he felt down to his toes. Fervent, adoring, grateful… He couldn’t choose a single label for it, but it left him in no doubt that Vin appreciated the efforts he’d made.