On a Roll by Beth Bolden (best historical biographies TXT) 📕

for so long that it felt like anything might just tip him over. And he wanted it to be Gabriel’s cock. Needed it to be Gabriel’s cock.

“Alright, bossy,” Gabriel said, and Sean gasped as his fingers pulled out, leaving him feeling so empty. “Just a goddamned second.”

Sean heard the condom wrapper rip and glanced down, watching as Gabriel rolled the rubber on. His cock was as hard as it had been the other night, when he’d sucked him dry, and seemed to look even impossibly bigger than it had then. But he could do this. He wanted to do this. More than he wanted anything else.

How long had it been since he took anything for himself? So goddamn long.

He deserved this cock. He deserved to come his fucking brains out on it.

“Oh yeah,” Gabriel groaned as he began to push in. It was overwhelming. So much more sensation than his fingers, spearing him open, and he felt every inch of it.

“Fuck, fuck,” Sean breathed out, as Gabriel continued to slide in. How was it that there was so goddamn much? He felt so full already and Gabe was still moving, still pushing in.

“You good?” Gabriel asked, tipping his forehead against Sean’s. “I can . . .”

“No,” Sean said, wild for it. The pain was already beginning to slip away, and god, that was the end of it, wasn’t it? The blunt tip resting, it felt like, right against his prostate. “Oh my god, oh my god.” It was so much, almost too much, and he needed it to end, before he imploded with how much he was feeling. He began to reach down for his own cock, because that was what he needed—a few good hard strokes and he’d be coming and it would . . .

“Hell no,” Gabriel said, nimbly catching his hand and then pulling the other one to join it, his palm steadily pressing Sean’s wrists into the pillow. “You wanted fucked, you’re gonna get fucked. None of this coming early shit,” he said. Panted a little. “’Cause maybe now I really want to fuck this tight ass.”

“Do you?” Sean felt a little out of his mind with the pressure at his wrists, and the pressure everywhere else.

“Fuck yes I do,” Gabriel said, and thrust a little, and then a little more, still being gentle, but Sean had the sudden thought of how fucking good it would be when he wasn’t holding back anymore. What would it be like when Gabe lost control?

Fucking amazing, that’s what it would be like.

“Oh god,” Sean moaned as his hips sped up and even his very good imagination hadn’t been able to conjure how good this would feel. He was going out of his fucking mind, needing to just get a hand on his own cock, to relieve the pressure, but Gabe wouldn’t let up and wouldn’t stop.

“You are so fucking perfect just like this,” Gabriel said with a groan. “I could do this forever.”

Sean reared up and bit him on his shoulder, because he was beyond words, beyond anything really, and he needed something, anything, to push him over the edge, and the taste of Gabriel’s skin in his mouth felt like as good a method as any.

“Fuck,” Gabriel shouted, and Sean realized he hadn’t been lying. The nibbling—and apparently the biting, too—really got him going because he was screwing his eyes shut, hips thrusting erratically, and Sean realized with desperation that he was about to come, and Sean still hadn’t.

He pushed up even further, sliding his drippy cock right up against Gabriel’s firm stomach and that was all it took, he was catapulting past anything he thought he could bear, pleasure roaring through him in a dizzying wave.

“Oh my god,” Sean wailed as he clenched around Gabriel’s cock. “Oh my god.”

Gabriel’s head fell to his shoulder, and he shuddered out his own orgasm, filling the condom.

Finally, his hips stilled and Sean could only lie there, feeling everything still. His wrists, caught up in Gabriel’s hand. His huge cock, continuing to touch all the oversensitive spots inside him.

“That was . . .” Gabriel let out a guttural sigh.

“Something else,” Sean finished for him with a semi-hysterical laugh.

“Yeah,” Gabriel agreed, his smile so warm.

“We could do it again,” Sean said.

Gabriel’s smile morphed into faux shock. “Right now? I hate to break it to you, but I’m not eighteen still.”

“No, no,” Sean giggled. “Not right now. Like . . . tomorrow. I just . . . realized I didn’t want us to get too up in our own heads like we had last time. So I thought it’d be a good idea to establish that yes, I want to do it again. As soon as possible.”

Gabriel raised a questioning eyebrow. “You think you’re going to get any arguments out of me?”

Sean laughed. “For once, no.”

Chapter Eight

The only good part of the weekly staff meeting was that Tony held it at the Funky Cup.

If Gabriel was going to have to listen to his friends bitch and whine and complain about all the injustices that had been delivered upon them during the last week, he wanted to be able to drink a few beers while doing it.

In their defense, they did a whole lot more than whining, typically, but by the end, that was usually what it devolved to. Tate told a story about how a customer wanted a grilled cheese, no cheese. Lucas joked about a vegetarian who’d ordered the fish tacos and then complained he couldn’t eat them.

Gabriel had just finished up his second beer, and was eyeing Sean from across the room, wondering if it was too soon or if he would look too desperate to suggest they go back to his place. But before he could decide one way or the other, Tony threw a wrench in.

It was Tony, so he shouldn’t have been surprised.

“So, we’ve been open six months now,” Tony announced casually, “and I want to start implementing some of my bigger ideas for the lot.”

“Like what?” Tate