The Gravedigger's Brawl by Abigail Roux Read Free Book Online

edge and holding Ash’s hips, forcing himself to wait, letting the pressure in his gut die down as his cock throbbed.
    â€œCome on.”
    â€œWait,” Wyatt gasped.
    â€œI don’t care, I just want you back in there,” Ash said as he arched his back and pushed up with his hips.
    Wyatt slid his hand down the middle of Ash’s back and pulled on his hip, pushing into him again. The mattress recommenced its creaking as Wyatt thrust into him, but the headboard didn’t complain any longer. Wyatt grabbed Ash’s shoulder, fingers digging into the skin as he held Ash still and pounded into him. Ash gasped desperately, threw his head back and arched, pushing into Wyatt’s thrusts. Wyatt reached with his other hand and grabbed a handful of Ash’s damp hair, panting as he rode him.
    Ash cried out again and Wyatt released his hair and reached around to fist his cock. Ash bucked against him, writhing wantonly, groaning as he spilled himself into Wyatt’s hand. Ash’s pleasure seen to, Wyatt pushed him all the way to the mattress, holding him down flat and fucking him without mercy until he came with a stifled shout.
    He continued rocking until he was spent, his breath coming in gasps against the back of Ash’s shoulder. He made certain the condom came with him when he pulled out, and he flopped onto the sheets, rolling onto his back, gasping for breath.
    Ash grunted and turned his head. He was breathing heavily, skin damp with sweat, hair mussed and eyes still lined with the heavy kohl. How it wasn’t spread all over his face by now, Wyatt would never know. He looked completely debauched with the rumpled cognac-colored sheets as his backdrop.
    Wyatt stared at him for a long time, breathing hard and letting his body recover, stunned by how such a sordid night could feel so fucking beautiful.
    Ash closed his eyes. “Jesus, that was fun, Wyatt.”
    Wyatt kissed him, a long, languid play of lips and tongues that banked the residual heat between them.
    When they finally parted, they sprawled sideways across the bed. Wyatt stared at the ceiling as uncertainty and incredulity flooded in with the cool air of the open window. What had he been thinking? He didn’t even know this man, had spent a mere five hours with him getting drunk and pretending not to be intimidated by his perfect face and his unfamiliar lifestyle, and now here he was in his bed? He never behaved this impulsively.
    â€œI need water,” he grunted as he pushed himself off the bed.
    Ash didn’t move or open his eyes.
    Wyatt huffed as he padded into the tiny bathroom, his mind spinning with thoughts of his next move. He stayed in the bathroom long enough to calm his racing heart. The encounter had been incredible, but rather than tiring him, adrenaline was racing through him, burning away any remnants of the drinks that had fueled his initial bravery and foolishness.
    He looked at himself in the mirror. What the hell should he do now? Was he brave enough to face someone like Ash in the morning, when all the liquor and sexual tension was gone and there was nothing left between them but an awkward morning after?
    When he poked his head back into the bedroom, Ash hadn’t moved. One arm cradled his head and one knee was cocked to the side. His other foot hung over the far edge of the bed, just as Wyatt had left him when he’d come inside him. He was sound asleep.
    Wyatt licked his lips and swallowed hard, letting his eyes linger. Then he began quietly gathering his clothing.

    Ash cracked an eye open and managed a tortured groan as the morning light streamed through the blinds of his bedroom. He was still sprawled sideways on his bed, naked and freezing despite the blanket that covered him.
    The place was silent as a grave. Not even the floor above creaked with the footsteps of his neighbors yet. He raised his head carefully and looked around, pleased when it didn’t make his head hurt or make his