This Is a Dark Ride Read Free

grip tightened, his strokes lengthened, and his voice softened. “I’ll make it good for you, but my stomach just doesn’t feel right.” He nuzzled Sam’s neck, kissed his way roughly to Sam’s ear, and bit his lobe. Sam wanted to scream. Don’t stop. Don’t you ever fucking stop.
    “You’re going to come for me, Samson. You’re going to show me what a good boy you are, and you’re going to fuck my hand.”
    Sam moved his hips faster, desperately in time with Brody’s strokes. Sam was going to come. Nothing was going to stop him now.
    “You just give me a little more time to get feeling better, Sam.” Brody’s warm breath brushed against his ear. Goose bumps scattered over Sam’s shoulders, and he shivered. “I can’t wait until I can fuck you again,” Brody murmured.
    Sam groaned. Brody. His Brody , fucking him again. Beautiful, loving Brody, who gave it to him in exactly the way he’d always wanted.
    Before Brody, everyone he’d met had expected him to be something he wasn’t. Because of Sam’s size and his jobs, people looked at him and just expected him to be rough and in control. Physically he could easily top another man, but that wasn’t what he wanted, or needed.
    “Let me get some lube,” Brody said, moving his hand away. Sam caught his wrist, unwilling to take the chance that Brody would change his mind or get distracted.
    “No, please. I don’t need it. Please, Brody?”
    “Let go of my arm then,” Brody said. “Put your hands up over your head and be still.”
    Sam balled his hands together as if they were tied at the wrists. Brody moved closer, jerked the covers off, and yanked Sam’s underwear down. The cool air chilled Sam’s naked skin. He squirmed, only a little, but Brody stopped stroking him.
    “I said to stay still.”
    “I’m trying, but it’s not easy.”
    Brody fisted Sam’s weeping cock possessively and squeezed real hard, pumping in earnest.
    “This is mine.”
    “Yes. Yours,” Sam said, biting down on his lower lip.
    “What do you want, Sam?”
    “I want you to fuck me. I…I need…” Panting, Sam spread his legs wider, raising his heels so they dug into the mattress. He shifted on the bed, body anxious, balls aching. “Harder, Brody, please?” He groaned. “Make it hurt.”
    Brody gave a weak laugh in response, but Sam clearly heard the desperation, the hint of sorrow woven through the laughter like dark stains. “I’m tired, Sam. Sick. It doesn’t have to hurt to be good, you know?” He squeezed just a bit harder.
    Oh, just like that . Just hard enough.
    Sam couldn’t breathe. The muscles in his belly tensed, and he arched up, desperate for release. Each stroke brought him closer. The friction on his cock grew hot, the skin chafing deliciously at Brody’s rough touch.
    The first wave rolled through him like a locomotive. One spurt, two spurts, his body vibrated with each spasm. So long… It had been so long. He was unable to keep his eyes open. Sam let his breath out in a long moan. He reached down, wanting a handful of Brody’s hair. Brody was gone. He ran from the room. Sam opened his eyes. The last twinges of his orgasm lingered. His cock still twitched, and he finished using his own hand. As the last few trickles of his release oozed onto his belly, he could hear Brody dry heaving in the bathroom.
    Sam stared at the ceiling, his own cum rapidly cooling on his stomach. He didn’t feel any real satisfaction from the orgasm. If anything he just felt emptier. There was a time when he had felt a closeness to Brody that was so real, so intense, that it consumed him. Now the only things that consumed him were worry and doubt.
    The alarm clock on the night table began beeping, and Sam sighed as he switched it off. It was time for him to get ready for work. The foreman didn’t seem to like him very much, and the last thing he needed was to be late.
    Brody walked back from the bathroom, a towel draped over his shoulder. His face was deathly pale,