Shit, from word one it had always gone right up his ass.
Diesel put his hands to the wall but not to push away.
To brace.
And he spread his legs.
Still shoved up at his ass, Maddox reached around, popped the button of his jeans and slid down the zip.
His boy was not one to fuck around, ever, especially when fucking.
So he didn’t then, reaching right in and freeing D’s hard, straining length, wrapping it in a tight fist at the base.
“You get hard on the way home?” Maddox asked.
“Yeah,” D pushed out, his entire focus on his cock and the hope that Mad would start pumping it.
“Yeah,” Maddox whispered, further tightening his fist and Diesel gritted his teeth as Maddox pulled hard down the length.
Fucking beautiful.
Best handjobs he’d ever had started with the first Mad had given him after he’d let his boy lay him out during a wrestling match on their second date. A match they’d had to decide who’d get to fuck who. And after he’d won, Mad had made him lie still on his back while he knelt between D’s spread legs and pumped his dick until he flooded all over his stomach (seeing if he’d pass that test, precisely why D’d let him win—he’d passed). They ended with the last one he’d had, which was three mornings ago when Mad had jacked him off in the shower while Molly was on the phone handling the final details of this weekend with fucking Holly.
But right then, that was all he got before Maddox ordered, “Don’t move.”
Then he disappeared.
Diesel absolutely did not move.
Again, as it was with Mad, it didn’t take long.
Diesel’s hips swayed as Maddox yanked his jeans down until they caught at his spread thighs.
“Lose the tee,” he commanded.
D moved his hands from the wall to take hold of the hem of his T-shirt. He pulled it up and off and dropped it to the floor.
“Hands back to the wall,” Maddox demanded.
Diesel obliged.
Both Maddox’s hands landed on either side of his spine at the middle and moved down to his ass where he grabbed hold and a grunt shoved up D’s throat as he spread him viciously.
“My man,” he forced out, fighting his legs trembling, pressing in at the wall for a different reason, that being in order to stay standing and focus on something other than spontaneously coming.
Maddox said nothing.
But his hands massaged D’s ass cheeks, doing it hard, maybe hard enough to leave bruises with the pads of his fingers, before he slipped them lower, palms right under the bottom curves. He shoved up, tipping D’s ass out.
“Fuck,” he groaned, his balls drawing up, his cock swelling so bad, he knew soon it’d begin aching.
Then Maddox’s hands were at the insides of his thighs, shoving them apart, straining them against his jeans, as D felt his man push his face through and latch on tight, sucking his balls into his mouth.
Fucking, fucking awesome.
D tipped further as a rumble rolled out his throat and he pulsed into Maddox’s rhythmic sucking.
“Yeah, fuck yeah, Mad, take those,” he encouraged roughly.
Maddox did, giving it to his boy, always giving, sucking harder.
“Christ, fuck,” D bit. “You got a mouth on you.”
Maddox’s hands slid up to his ass, he released D’s balls, pulled him apart and his mouth was there.
“Jesus,” D clipped, his body bolting before he pushed back as Maddox tongued him.
Fuck, he did not know what got into his man tonight. Maddox was not averse to eating out Diesel’s ass but the occasion was usually not a getting-home-from-drinks-with-the-boys-starting-the-weekend fuck.
That kind of attention at the back, a man needed serious attention at the front.
Yeah, his dick was now aching.
“Maddox, my man, need one of our hands on my cock.”
And that need at the moment was a need.
Diesel’s body bolted again as Mad bit deep into the flesh just at the side of his crease and muttered, “No.”
Then he went back to tonguing.
Christ.
This was going somewhere, fast.
So Mad had to get there with Diesel.
Fast.
“Okay then, need you to fuck it,” he huffed.
And lost Mad’s mouth in his ass but not at his ear. Instead he felt the head of Maddox’s cock slipping through his crack.
“Gotta earn it, D,” he growled. “Now, go. Get yourself lubed. Naked. Bed. On your knees.”
The cock left his crack and Maddox stepped away.
Slowly, Diesel pushed away from the wall and turned toward his man.
Mad had his cock out of his jeans and was stroking the wide, long length.
And yeah.
If that was the first sight he’d had of Maddox, even before getting his voice, that monster cock, he’d have been on his knees.
But right then, if D was another guy, Maddox would catch his neck, pull him in and kiss him before he repeated his order to go to their room and position. Just like he did to Molly before she carried out an order. Something Diesel had seen a lot. Something that, watching, set something else in D to aching.
Because D was not that guy.
They did not kiss.
Unless Mol asked them to when one of them was inside her and the other was watching.
Or on the very rare occasion where Mad got him there.
As in there.
Where he’d taken him at the Bolt.
But right then, the harsh darkness in Maddox’s attractive but cruel face was not about D not giving him that, even though D knew he wanted it and just how badly.
It was about him wanting D to get his ass to their bedroom so he could earn a hard fucking.
D yanked up his jeans, ignored his forgotten tee, and didn’t bother doing his jeans up since he’d be taking them off. He just held them up as he moved down the hall, into the great room, down the other hall to the end.
Their bedroom.
He dropped his boots and jeans on the floor and went to the nightstand to rifle through the variety of toys that jumbled with remotes for different kinds of appliances until he found a tube of lube and generously took care of business.
He then got on his knees in the bed where he knew Maddox would want him.
Close to the bottom end.
Better to shove D over and fuck him standing.
Or other.
Maddox being Maddox, it wasn’t about D kneeling there, hard, desperate and wanting and making him wait, something Diesel would not hesitate to do to Mad.
He came in not a minute later and stopped at the side of the bed so Diesel could watch him pull off his clothes.
The thirty seconds that took was bad enough.
Fuck, his boy had a body. Power packed, that muscle. Heavy fur on his chest, down his boxed abs, bushing real thick around his big dick, covering his thighs and calves. Molly had to wax the skin at the small of his back and his crack so his hair didn’t pull while D was fucking him or Molly was taking his ass with a strap-on (he could take pain, seriously, but that wasn’t pain—it was irritating as fuck).
But other than back to ass, from pecs to ankles, he was furred.
It was seriously fucking hot.
D watched as Maddox crawled into the bed on all fours, prowling to his boy, his eyes lifted to D’s face, his mouth aimed right to D’s dick.
That dick jumped and his ass squeezed tight in preparation for what was coming but his eyes didn’t know where to go. Watch his boy suck down his cock or watch that tight ass move across the bed.
But all he got when Maddox arrived was the tip of his tongue tracing up the underside of D’s dick, coming right to the head before he got up on his knees in front of D, face to face, and caught him behind the back of the neck.