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I need to kiss him, though. I need to kiss him so badly my mouth is aching with how much it wants to feel the pressure of his.
I move my hands up the wall and straighten my back. His cock slides out of me as does a good helping of his cum. I shiver as its thick, distinct warmth slides down my balls and inner thigh. Turning, I wrap my arms around his wet shoulders and go after his mouth.
He opens immediately, wrapping his tongue up with mine and pulling me close. We breathlessly make out as the orgasms work their way through our systems. Minutes later, we’re panting against each other’s lips, foreheads pressed together and fingertips digging into flesh. “I won’t hold you to it,” he says.
“Hold me to what?”
“All the shit I made you say.”
God, of all the men, why’d I have to get the impossible one? “Fine, Drew. Whatever. Let’s get you clean and go fuck again.”
42
DREW
Ican’t get it up for a while after the shower, but it doesn’t mean I leave Olivier alone. I want to inhale him. Snort him. He responds to every way I lick or kiss or touch him like he’s being paid for his performance.
I don’t even care that I’m supposed to work tonight. I’m much more interested in soiling the sheets with his cum.
When I’m finally able to fuck him again, it’s face to face with me back in control. I take my time with him. Kissing him and reminding him how good he is, how he feels so perfect, how I can’t get enough.
We may not be experts at gay sex, but we’re figuring out what works for us. It helps that every inch of him now blinds me with want. It makes me more adventurous. But after I come inside him for the second time this morning, he sees my eyes droop once and tells me to go to sleep.
“You’re not leaving, are you?”
“No,” he whispers, curling his body up against mine.
I fall asleep before I have time to start worrying again, but my dreams are stressful and vivid. I don’t feel well-rested when my alarm goes off, but Olivier’s hard cock against my thigh makes me grin. “You asleep?” I whisper.
“No, but someone’s here—I heard them in the living room.”
Christian. I sigh, groping Olivier’s hip and waist, then the muscle of his thigh. Needing him again. Not wanting to let him go. Not liking the thoughts that overtake me when he’s not by my side.
He kisses me, and it only makes the impeding time apart feel worse.
I never thought I’d be this person. The one who would fall so hard nothing else mattered. The one who would genuinely give anything to lose myself inside someone else because there’s so little of me left to lose. If he wants what’s left, I want him to have it. Take it. If he takes half as good care of it as he takes care of his clothes, I’ll be in good shape.
“I don’t want to work tonight,” I say before I can stop the words from coming out because I know how easy it would be for him to convince me not to.
It’s a door I know better than to open, but I’m not much more than a bleeding wound today.
“You don’t want to hear what I want to say,” he says, gently caressing my cheek as he murmurs against my lips.
I shouldn’t want to, but I do. “What?”
“Fuck this place and its depressing shower. Move in with me. Forget rent and bills and all that stupid shit weighing you down. Come uptown and be my boyfriend. We can even go to college together if you want.”
I smile, not because it’s a great offer, but because it’s a sweet one. Adorable, even. “Great. Just what I’ve been hoping to trap you into offering me all along.”
“Too bad I trust you now,” he says.
“Oh? When did that change?”
“I don’t know. The fourth or fifth time you forced me to say I love you in the shower. I think it was the fourth one…”
“Too desperate, huh?”
“I wouldn’t say that, but you definitely tipped your hand.”
