Zack moaned raggedly. “God, I want to. But I’m not going to risk hurting you. Relax, and it’ll go faster.” He pushed his finger farther in, and John groaned like some lost part of him had finally returned: eyes closed, head thrown back, mouth slack.

Zack felt like he could come just from watching John’s facial expressions. He worked him slowly open with one finger and then added a second. John started microthrusting his hips to meet Zack’s movements. Zack gave up on trying to hold him still and let him fuck himself on his fingers. It was mesmerizing to watch them disappear into John’s body with every roll of his hips. Zack’s skin tingled at the idea of watching his cock do the same.

He added more lube and a third finger. His eyes were rapt on John’s face, searching for signs of discomfort or pain. If anything, John’s enthusiasm doubled with every finger Zack added. He was moaning with abandon now, wordlessly and in time with his thrusting hips. The sight of it was unraveling Zack’s desire to draw this out.

As if sensing his weakness, John reached down and gave his reddened cock a long stroke as he thrust down hard onto Zack’s fingers. He must have found the perfect spot, because his mouth dropped open into a silent O. Zack could actually see pleasure reverberating through him like a plucked guitar string.

Zack’s self-control shattered.

He removed his fingers, ignoring John’s whine of protest. He grabbed one of John’s legs and pushed his knee to his chest, exposing him. Zack paused, absorbing the sight—John open, pliant, and trembling with need—before he lined his cock up. John was watching him with a look akin to wonder on his face.

“You all right?” Zack asked. “Still want to do this?”

John laughed breathily. “I have never wanted to have sex more in my life. Now hurry up, or I’m going to make you pay for this when it’s my turn to top.”

“I’m looking forward to it.” Zack took his dick in hand and guided himself into John. The second they touched, the stretch and pressure made Zack dizzy with lust. He was met with brief resistance at first, but then the head breached the ring of muscles. Zack fought the urge to sink in as deep as he could go. He could still hurt John if he didn’t do this slowly. But God, did it feel good. Every clichéd description he’d ever heard drifted through his head: hot and tight and slick and perfect. He pulled out and slid forward again, reveling in the pleasure that washed through him from that simple motion alone.

Zack cracked an eye open and looked at John. His face was screwed up, and his fingers were fisted in the sheets.

“Are you okay?” Zack asked through clenched teeth.