Gilbert by Bailey Bradford

back in and started a steady, hard rhythm.
    Jihu’s eyes rolled back in his head and he arched his pretty, thin neck. Gilbert resisted the urge to bite him again. Jihu had said he wanted to mark Gilbert instead, and he knew if he gave in to his leopard’s urging and bit Jihu, they’d both go off like bottle rockets.
    Gilbert got his hands beneath Jihu and he rolled, keeping Jihu seated on his cock. “You fuck me. Ride my cock, baby. Show me, take me.” He wanted to say that and feel Jihu reaming his ass, but not until Jihu was ready for it.
    Jihu planted a hand on Gilbert’s chest and undulated on his cock. Gilbert’s ears rang as arousal doubled inside him. “Yes, Jihu, just like that. Give it to me.”
    Jihu snarled and rose up completely off Gilbert’s dick, only stopping to keep his slit pressed to Jihu’s hole. “You are mine,” Jihu snapped. Gilbert started to agree but Jihu dropped down, his ass encasing Gilbert’s length again. All Gilbert could do was moan and grab at Jihu’s arms, his thighs, any part of him he could reach.
    When Jihu reached for him, Gilbert tried to sit up. Jihu sank down on him. “Lean up,” he rasped.
    Gilbert pushed up onto his elbows, and Jihu clutched his neck. He pulled, and Gilbert leant forwards. Jihu locked gazes with him and began moving again, short rises and falls that drove Gilbert mad with need. Then Jihu ground down and clenched his ass, and Gilbert bellowed as his balls drew tight.
    “Now, you’re mine,” Jihu whispered, then he was moving, his hips, his head— his teeth sinking into Gilbert’s shoulder and stealing his ability to make any sound at all. Fiery pain seared him even as ecstasy shot into his veins. Gilbert rocked and held onto Jihu as his climax was ripped from him. Jihu sucked on the wound and more spunk shot from Gilbert’s cock. He felt Jihu’s orgasm in the inner muscles contracting so tight around his length, and all Gilbert could do was gasp for air and just feel.
    When it was over, when he could think, could breathe, Gilbert wiped at a tickle on his cheek. Moisture wet his skin. Had he cried? Shed tears? Or was it sweat? Gilbert didn’t care. That experience had been worth shedding tears over.
    “Jihu, I—” Gilbert wasn’t sure what he was going to say, but it got cut off by a sharp knock on their door.
    “If you two are done now, we need to talk, and Daniel has a stinky diaper that one of you can change.” Isaiah muttered something about getting out of diaper duty being an uncle’s privilege. Gilbert snorted.
    “I’ll get him,” Jihu said. He eased off Gilbert and groaned. “Ouch. My butt is going to feel that for days—but it’s the good kind of sore,” he added before darting over to the dresser.
    Gilbert enjoyed the view, Jihu’s taut little ass as delectable as always. When Jihu bent over to pull on underwear, his cheeks spread and exposed his hole. Gilbert winced at the puffy skin and got up, walking over to Jihu as he stood and tugged his briefs up.
    “What?” Jihu asked, lowering his eyebrows in question.
    Gilbert ran a hand down his butt and lightly ghosted his fingers over his covered hole. “Looks sore.”
    Jihu shrugged and gave him a wicked grin. “It’s not debilitating, and I will think of what we just did every time it aches. So I’m cool with it.”
    Gilbert warmed with arousal all over again and he groaned as he moved away. “God, I just want you, Jihu. Constantly.”
    Jihu gave him a saucy wink and, in a show of playfulness that just brightened Gilbert’s already awesome day, he shook his butt at Gilbert and patted one cheek. “Who can blame you?”
    “If we had ten minutes…” But they didn’t. Gilbert pouted as he got dressed. He needed a shower, and so did Jihu, but first things first. Daniel needed tending to.
    “Go rinse off,” Jihu told him when Gilbert would have followed him. “Seriously. You can have Daniel all to yourself after while I shower, and you don’t have the dirty