He lowers himself again, lining his hard shaft with mine. A palpable relief floods between us when smooth skin brushes smooth skin. We both groan. Flame sizzles through my groin into his.

“Michael,” he breathes.

I fold my legs around him and lower my hands to grip his firm ass cheeks. Loose strands of blond hair fall across his shoulders. I raise my chin to chase the heat of his mouth.

“Need to come,” I say against his lips.

He shifts his hand to cradle my head and, with his other hand on my lower back to force me closer against him, begins to thrust. His fat cock rubs me just the way I need. Delicious. I’m nowhere near satisfied.

“More.” I pant. “I need more.”

He growls and jerks deeper, hard and relentless, balls slapping balls until every thrust slams me into the floor. I’ll have bruises when we’re finished, but I don’t give a shit. Pleasure explodes through my body with each pump of his hips. The heat, the pressure, the friction, hurtles me toward release.

“Is this enough?” His eyes stay riveted to mine. “Or can you take more?”

I tilt my chin and tease my tongue across his open lips. “Harder.”

He takes my mouth with a sudden violence that thrusts his tongue to the back of my throat. His arms hold me so tight to him, hips hammering me into the floor, he steals my breath. I’m enveloped by heat and strength and ferocity. Utterly dominated by animalistic power. It’s obliterating. I fucking love it.

I hold on, fingers gripping flesh, thighs tight around his waist, my mouth full of his penetrating tongue, and let him thrust me to climax.

Heat builds to a scorching pressure, and when my moans become panting cries, he releases my mouth to watch my face.

“That’s it. Let it go.”

“Oh, fuck. Flanagan!”

Muscles clench. Fire rips through my cock. Flame surges and breaks across my skin in a storm of bliss.

Hot liquid shoots into the tight space between our shifting abs. He doesn’t stop thrusting. He keeps going until I collapse beneath him like a spent rag. My dick’s gonna to be a red raw sausage after this mega rub, but I don’t fucking care.

He takes my mouth again, a thorough searching kiss. Sliding his lips over mine and exploring with his tongue as if he wants to own every corner. I return the intensity, sucking him deeper, our tongues clashing. The beard is novel—a soft tickle across my skin. I’d expect to be repulsed by man fur, by a man’s lips smothering mine, but kissing Flanagan is hot as hell.

He finally stills, panting against my ear.

When I can breathe enough to speak, I laugh. “Man, that was mad… Wait. Did you come?”

“I’m fine.” He presses a soft kiss to the side of my head.