Thorne lined up his cock and drove in hard.

“Fucking fuck!” Dash shouted. “God, that’s—”

Thorne didn’t give him a chance to get the words out. He pulled back and thrust again, filling Dash up.

“Bastard!”

Thorne chuckled. He worked Dash’s ass, keeping up a steady rhythm, driving deep, until he was begging. “Please. More. Need to come. Please.”

Thorne pulled all the way out, sat on the couch, and pulled Dash onto his lap. “Ride me.”

Dash grinned. “Tired of doing the work?”

“You did tell me to relax.”

Dash rose up and took Thorne’s cock in his hand. He stroked him a few times, dragging a groan out of him. Then he positioned himself and started to sink down on him, slowly, so slowly.

“Stop torturing me,” Thorne demanded.

“Payback.”

Thorne huffed. “I never went slow.”

“So now I’m forcing you to for taking me like a beast.”

“You said—”

“I loved it, but this is fun.”

Dash kept lowering himself at the pace of a snail. How the fuck were his leg muscles holding him for so long without even quivering?

Thorne ran his hands up and down Dash’s thighs. “Impressive.”

Dash winked. “I try.”

Dash finally hit bottom, but he didn’t move.

“You’d better fuck me right fucking now.”

“Or?”

Thorne dug his fingers into Dash’s hips, trying to make him move. “Or I’m going to eat every last bite of cake that’s left.”

“Ooooh, that’s quite a threat.”

“And I won’t even eat it off you.”

Dash rose up and slid down, still slow, but at least he was moving.

“I thought that would disturb you,” Thorne taunted.

Dash increased his pace, but somehow Thorne was sure Dash had the upper hand. It didn’t matter that Thorne’s dick was in Dash’s ass and Thorne was the one making threats. Determined to take back more control, he wiggled around until he could get more leverage. He tried to hold Dash still while he thrust up into him.

“Yes,” Dash shouted. “Show me how much you need it.”

“Damn right I will. I’m going to fill your ass.”

“Yes, stuff me fucking full.”

“Fuck!” Thorne was so close. One more thrust. Two. And he was coming. He pulled Dash to him and bit down on his shoulder to muffle his shout.

Dash cried out, “Fucking God, I love that. Bite me harder.”

He did, and Dash came, shooting sticky fluid between them, looking more fucking hot than Thorne thought possible.

After they’d caught their breaths, Dash rose off Thorne and flopped down on the couch next to him. “I’d say we earned the cake.”

“More than,” Thorne agreed. Silently, they each polished off the last of their pieces and drained their coffee mugs. Thorne hadn’t felt so at peace in ages. He could get used to this.