Love In Slow Motion (Love Beyond Measure #2) - E.M. Lindsey Page 0,102

his eyes closed and dancing back and forth behind his lids like the force of his pleasure wouldn’t allow a single part of him to keep still.

He stayed like that until he felt just the barest bit of give, and then he pushed until he was all the way inside. “Okay?” he asked.

Fredric swallowed thickly twice before he could speak. “Yes. I…more?”

It came out like a question, so Ilan withdrew his finger, added more lube, and then pressed the tips of his first and middle finger together, just to the first knuckle. Fredric let out a sharp gasp, but he no longer felt like he was fighting Ilan. No, he was pushing back, wordlessly asking for more, for deeper. For all of it.

Ilan groaned as he gave, as he leaned on one arm and pushed with the other until the curl of his ring finger and pinky brushed his ass cheeks. He watched as the hole stretched around him, as it opened, felt it relax until Ilan thought maybe he could make his way inside.

He was big—but not impossibly so. His dick was not intimidating, it was just needy, throbbing between his legs as he waited for what was coming next. “Are you ready for me?” he finally asked, and Fredric nodded.

“Yes. I…go slow, but yes.”

Ilan had no intention to do anything other than that, but he understood why Fredric needed him to say it. “I’m going to take care of you.” He leaned forward, thrusting his fingers in and spreading them until Fredric groaned, then he kissed the side of his knee. “I’m going to make it so, so good.”

He withdrew, and his hands were clumsy as he swiped them on the blanket, then got the condom wrapper open. He hadn’t been all nerves like this since he was twenty and trying to figure out what the hell he was doing, but he was not surprised that Fredric had managed to reduce him to that shaking mess.

He managed to get the thing rolled onto his dick, then he added more lube than he normally would before he pushed Fredric’s legs a little bit wider apart and used one hand to position himself. “Fredric,” he breathed out, and a hand reached for him, cupping the side of his neck.

“I want you, my heart. I need you. I’m ready.”

Ilan squeezed his eyes shut, unprepared to take that intensity of being cared for. But he wouldn’t want it any other way, because it was so Fredric, and he kept that thought beating in his heart as he pressed the head of his dick against Fredric’s hole and then pushed.

He went slow—torturing himself with centimeters of progress, not looking, but feeling the way shock pushed through Fredric’s limbs. When he was steady, he moved his hands, dragging them up over Fredric’s knees as he bent forward, and he took him by the hips.

“I,” Fredric managed, his voice rough and ragged. “I can feel you.”

Ilan forced his eyes open, staring down at the way Fredric was lying there with his lips parted on shallow breaths. “Can you take all of it?”

Fredric’s whole body stilled, then he reached down with both hands, curling them around Ilan’s ass, and he pulled. Hard. Ilan was powerless against it as he slid all the way in, the lube slick, the heat around him searing. Fredric shifted under him, his breath in small pants like he was uncomfortable, and Ilan knew he probably was. But Fredric’s hands kept him still.

“Full,” Fredric grunted. He released one hand, dragging it up the back of Ilan’s spine, and he pushed fingers into his hair. “Kiss me. Kiss me and fuck me.”

Ilan didn’t need telling twice. The space between their bodies turned into nothing, and their mouths met. Ilan fucked his tongue in with the same rhythm his hips took, more of a grind because he couldn’t bring himself to pull out far. Fredric’s legs lifted, his body less limber than Ilan’s, but he was just flexible enough to squeeze his calves around Ilan’s backside and thrust himself against the cock impaling him.

Ilan was close. He was so, so close. He could feel his orgasm building in the pit of his stomach, his balls going tight. “I…I can’t…”

“I know,” Fredric said. “It’s…I’m almost…”

Ilan pulled back just a little, shifting his angle, thrusting, again and again until Fredric arched. There. It was there, the right angle, the right force as Ilan picked up speed. His hand moved between them, grasping at Fredric’s cock, which