Pisces Floors Taurus: Signs of Love 4.5

by Anyta Sunday

  Their kiss grew heated. Zane rocked against Beckett’s hard-on, his own hardness obscenely tenting his satin boxers, the head nudging Beckett’s stomach.

  Beckett nipped the side of Zane’s throat and groaned. “Are you sure?”

  Zane was too lost to the sensation of Beckett’s hands clamping around his ass to answer.

  “Because you can have me instead. Forever. We don’t—”

  Zane freed himself from Beckett’s lap, and yanked Beckett to his feet with him. Their bodies bumped together as Zane crushed him into another kiss. And another. And another.

  They stumbled to the bedroom where the bed awaited them, large and dominant. Curtains were drawn tight, though one flap was caught on the bull-cloaked armchair. A mild glow emanated from the nightstands, casting dim light over the bed and even hazier light over the soft carpet.

  Beckett tugged out of his blazer and Zane helped him with the shirt. Both ended up puddled between them, soft material tickling the tops of his feet.

  Beckett slid soft fingers over Zane’s jaw. “Any time you change your mind—”

  Zane growled, flicked Beckett’s jeans open, and reached a hand under his briefs and palmed his hot length. He squeezed the silky skin around his firm shaft and sucked Beckett’s bottom lip into his mouth.

  Beckett melted into the touch, pushing into his hand with a frantic moan.

  Zane loved how hot Beckett was, how he trusted himself to let go.

  Beckett’s fingers swept under Zane’s T-shirt and glided over his coconut-oiled skin. “Slippery,” Beckett mused before pulling the T-shirt off.

  “Um, yes. Everywhere.” Zane may have overdone it, but he’d felt tight when he’d fingered himself in preparation earlier. Had been rather zealous with the coconut oil.

  Beckett’s eyes darkened. He steered the waistband of his boxers over his rigid cock and Zane wriggled it to his ankles. Zane wrapped a hand around himself and stroked as Beckett stomped out of his pants.

  As soon as their feet were free, Zane pulled Beckett against him so eagerly, he lost balance and they crumpled half against the bed, half the floor.

  Zane’s ass hit the soft carpet, Beckett’s knees thumped between his thighs. Their cocks crossed with glorious sensation and Beckett’s laugh fanned over his chin.

  Zane didn’t care where they’d landed, all that mattered was that his sexy, professor boyfriend was in his arms.

  He pulled Beckett on top of him, and Beckett’s laughter drifted into their next kiss. They kissed softly, Beckett gently grinding on him. But grinding wasn’t enough. Zane wanted Beckett inside him.

  He was a little scared, and a lot nervous, but he was so achingly ready.

  He arched up against the shallow thrusts and looped a leg around Beckett’s back. He tightened his hold on Beckett and pleaded for Beckett to touch his ass.

  Beckett cursed against his neck and reached between them.

  The first sweep of fingertips over his hole had Zane alight. He lifted his head off the floor and kissed Beckett deeply, hand threading through his hair, urging him on. His body burst into needy shivers. With his free hand, he greedily gripped Beckett’s and helped push his fingers inside him.

  The breach felt insanely good. “I can’t believe you never told me you love to top,” Zane groaned.

  Beckett swatted his hand away and took over teasing his hole. “It didn’t seem . . . pertinent.”

  Kill Zane now. “You used that big word on purpose, didn’t you?”

  “What? Pertinent?” Beckett said innocently.

  Zane scowled into a punishing kiss. “You know I love it when you use clever words.” And that one sounded particularly perky and pointy and penis-tenty.

  Beckett pulled back with a humored grin. God, he was beautiful.

  “What did you use in yourself?” Beckett asked.

  “Coconut oil.”

  “That doesn’t work well with latex.”

  Zane rested his head back on the ground and held Beckett’s gaze. He whispered, “I want you to come inside me.”

  They’d been tested, and they were both clean. Zane and Beckett had talked about not using condoms, but this would be their first time following through with it.

  Beckett’s breath hitched as his finger drew out of Zane. Zane’s stomach clenched. Was Beckett drawing back to say no? To tell Zane he wasn’t ready for that yet?

  Would Beckett touch his face gently and say Zane was moving too fast? From meeting, to confessing their love, to suggesting they marry when they returned from New Zealand . . .

  Was Beckett—

  Beckett touched his face, and Zane slammed his eyes shut.

  Hot breath pooled over his parted lips. A thumb stroked the bridge of his nose. Beckett’s voice shook. “I’d love being so close to you.”

  Zane’s eyes popped open, and beheld Beckett’s tender, lust-filled gaze. “Really?”

  Beckett slanted his lips on Zane’s.

  The warm weight of Beckett wriggling against his slippery body felt perfect. Kisses trailed down his throat and shoulder before a tongue flicked over his nipple. Zane’s skin tickled in the cool air as Beckett slid between Zane’s legs.

  Zane dropped his bent leg to the spongey carpet as Beckett cupped and kneaded his balls. Fingers darted with shallow thrusts in and out of him, and for twenty frustrating seconds, Beckett left him, nerve-endings on fire, as he found more lube.

  He returned with kisses and slick fingers, and murmurs about how sexy Zane was.

  Beckett steadied himself against Zane’s chest, their cocks rubbing with delicious friction. “Should we move to the bed?” Beckett asked raggedly in his ear.

  The bed, strewn with rose petals, would have been romantic.

  The side of the bed was swathed in dull shadows, his back was pressed hard into the carpet under him, and bedsheets hung over the bed, dipping over the arm Zane had flung out.

  It wasn’t perfect, and yet.

  “Here,” Zane said.

  Perfect came from them and their nervous eagerness to be close and closer still.

  He turned his head and captured Beckett’s hot lips. “Here,” he murmured. “This way I can say I floored you.”

  “You floor me every day.”

  Zane’s heart galloped. “Literally.”

  A soft laugh. “I have no words for you, Zane.”

  “Me either, professor.”

  With a quivering breath, Zane grasped Beckett’s cock and thumbed the come at his head. He tilted his ass and steered Beckett to his entrance.

  Beckett swooped for one more kiss, and then pressed forward. Zane hissed on the first intrusion, and grappled at Beckett when he started pulling back. Their eyes locked. “This is about us. I want to feel you.”

  Beckett fed him his length inch by gasping inch. He threaded their fingers, the back of Zane’s hand pressed against the carpet, and squeezed.

  Beckett was seated so deeply.

  Zane clenched around his length. It wasn’t quite as painful as he expected, but he felt strangely full, and his cock flagged.

  “Kiss me, Becky,” he whimpered, but Beckett was already there, tilting his head down and sweeping a tender kiss at the base of his lips.

  “You’re hugging me so tight,” Beckett gasped, and squeezed Zane’s shaft with delicious pressure.

  He hardened rapidly, and moaned for Beckett to move.

  Beckett eased out of him and slowly pressed forward again. He kept a languid pace, gentle, steady, until it was Zane who couldn’t handle any more careful rolling of hips. He wanted to feel Beckett shafting into him.

  “Harder, Becky. So I feel you forever.”

  Beckett uttered a string of long words that Zane loved. Beckett bucked into him at a pace that teased his prostate. Zane cried out for more just like it.

  Zane laid a wrist at Beckett’s shoulder, loving the way it bumped forward with each thrust.

  Beckett plowed into him, again and again. The carpet burned Zane’s back and the pressure
was intense, but he hungered for more. He clutched the bedsheets and yanked them. Rose petals puffed up and rained on them.

  His orgasm hurtled toward him, sudden and powerful, as he choked on Beckett’s name. Zane grasped at his cock, stroking furiously, and Beckett’s body slapped against his as he pounded into him, pace growing rapid and wild.

  One more thrust tore pleasure through Zane and he came hard between their stomachs. Beckett groaned. He was close, but not quite there. He started pulling out, and Zane curled his legs around his back. “In me, Becky.”

  Beckett drove into Zane like he never wanted to stop. His expression slackened with pleasure and Zane loved that he was sending Beckett to these desperately bucking heights.

  He snapped his hips one last time and Zane felt his cock pulsing inside him.

  Beckett groaned and collapsed onto Zane’s chest, planting a kiss at his throat.

  Zane wrapped his arms around Beckett’s heavily-breathing chest. Those beautiful blue eyes found his, awe and apprehension simmering there. “How do you feel?”

  Zane smiled at him. “Happy you took the plunge.”

  Barked laughter combed through the hair at his chest.

  Zane winced at the loss when Beckett slipped out of him. He hugged him tighter. “That felt very . . . “

  “Satisfying?” Beckett fished.

  “Pertinent.”

  Beckett buried his face in his neck and their stomachs slid together with oil and come. “God, I love you.”

  Zane rolled them and pinned Beckett’s wrists to the carpet and squashed rose petals either side of his head. He gazed deeply into Beckett’s eyes until humor faded to quieter sincerity. “I liked it, Becky. More than liked it.”

  Zane sucked in Beckett’s relieved breath, and their lips hovered close. “I love you.”

  After much lazy kissing—and Beckett murmuring in Zane’s ear not to get rid of the assless jockstrap—they moved to the bathroom and cleaned themselves with a warm cloth.

  Zane eyed the new shower curtain draped over the tub. Beckett disappeared and returned thirty seconds later with a set of solid silver shower-curtain rings. “They came while you were out. Let’s put it up.”

  Zane discarded the plastic rings and sat on the bath, watching his boyfriend gracefully snap the silver rings through the new curtain.

  “We’re done. Do you like it?”

  Zane continued watching Beckett. “Yeah. Perfect.”

  Beckett picked up the two leftover metal hoops and played with them in his hands.

  He eyed the Taurus, the hook, and the Pisces, and leveled his warm gaze on Zane. “I agree.”

  He stepped between Zane’s legs and took his hand. “And if you like it . . .” Beckett slid one of the shower hoops over his ring finger. It was too big, but it slid on with all the promise in the world. “You should put a ring on it.”

  Zane blinked at the ring. At Beckett. At the ring again. Was this . . . was he . . .

  Beckett slid the other ring on his finger with a twinkle in his eye.

  Zane leaped to his feet, heart in his throat. “Best quote ever, professor.”

  He placed his hyper-trembling hand, bejeweled with a shower-curtain ring, against Beckett’s cheek. “It was yes, it still is, and it always will be. Let’s tell Darla that we’re . . .”

  His voice stuck on the word, and Beckett swept in and kissed him. “Fiancés.”

  ~ The End ~

  Want to find out how flirty Pisces and stoic Taurus got together in the first place? Find out in “Pisces Hooks Taurus”!

  Pisces Hooks Taurus

  Signs of Love #4

  It’s a time for searching, and a time for finding, Pisces: keep casting your line and you will hook what you’re looking for.

  Zane has it all planned out: land the perfect Meet Cute, fall in love, and live happily ever after.

  Should be simple enough if he put his mind to it. A little creativity and some thinking outside of the box, and voila, he’d be married to the woman of his dreams.

  It would be perfect.

  And it would be before his visa ran out.

  But why are his feelings running wild now that the pressure’s on? Why is his picture-perfect plan turning into a muddled mess of morphed metaphors he can’t make sense of anymore?

  Just as well he’s met an English professor to help. And even though their first meet is anything but cute, this down-to-earth teacher may just be the realist Zane needs to ground him and give him a shot at love after all.

  Don’t cast your line too wide, Pisces. Your perfect catch may already have bitten.

  ~ - ~ - ~

  Pisces Hooks Taurus (Signs of Love #4) is an MM opposites-attract romantic comedy featuring an unapologetic romantic and a broken realist.

  More wit, banter and bad puns - and even more heart-stopping slow burn!

  Can be read as a standalone.

  Tropes: friends-to-lovers, slow burn, will-they-or-won’t-they

  Genre: New Adult, light-hearted contemporary gay romance

  Anyta Sunday

  Heart-stopping slow burn

  A bit about me: I'm a big, BIG fan of slow-burn romances. I love to read and write stories with characters who slowly fall in love.

  Some of my favorite tropes to read and write are: Enemies to Lovers, Friends to Lovers, Clueless Guys, Bisexual, Pansexual, Demisexual, Oblivious MCs, Everyone (Else) Can See It, Slow Burn, Love Has No Boundaries.

  I write a variety of stories, Contemporary MM Romances with a good dollop of angst, Contemporary lighthearted MM Romances, and even a splash of fantasy.

  My books have been translated into German, Italian, French, and Thai.

  Contact: http://www.anytasunday.com/about-anyta/

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