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“That’s what I thought,” he said, his voice husky as I involuntarily thrust against his palm, feeling a mixture of shame and desire.
“Please, I need to take care of you,” I said weakly. It was true, I did want to make him come, but it was more than that. I needed to be able to say with my body the words that were so difficult to speak with my tongue.
I want you.
I want this.
I don’t want this to end...
“No, no, we’re not doing that again,” he said, and I wanted to ask what he meant. But before I could, he yanked my sweatpants down to my ankles, my own cock springing free, wet and wild.
“Look at that big, beautiful cock of yours,” Dawson said, his voice all gravelly and sexy. I thrust into the air, from the sound of his voice alone. My cock literally ached. I wanted to come so fucking bad, and to hear Dawson like that... to see him like that... naked, swollen cock on display as he stared down at me with a startling intensity, I had to grab a hold of myself. I needed to be touched.
“Ah, ah...” Dawson growled as he smacked my hand away, the motion making my cock bounce and twinge from the impact.
“I didn’t say you could do that,” he teased.
“Dawson, please, I...” My words faded into nothing as Dawson’s thick hardness pressed against mine and his hand wrapped around us both. The feel of his cock against mine, wet and slippery, made me see stars. A deep groan left my chest and bubbled from my lips as Dawson built a rhythm, stroking us together.
“I don’t know if I can hold off. I—”
I couldn’t hold it. With one squeeze and thrust, I was erupting like a damn volcano over both of our cocks, over his hand, and my vision had gone white.
“God, you are beautiful when you come,” he purred as his thrusts came to a halt. “Fuuuuuck...” He groaned, long and low, the sensation of his pulsing, throbbing cock against mine throwing me into rapture. We both laid there a sticky, wet, gross mess of mutual cum, until our breathing had returned to normal, and Dawson removed himself from atop of me, falling to the other side of the bed, his limbs still tangled with mine.
Slumber crept in under the crash of adrenaline, of relief. I vaguely registered Dawson wiping me up with a towel before crawling back into bed with me, pulling me close to him.
The last thing I remember before darkness fell, was the warmth of his hold, and the whisper of one word.
Mine.
CHAPTER 26
Nolan
I woke up to the sound of birds singing, like some damn Hallmark movie. Warmth surrounded me, and I burrowed into it like a rabbit hunkering down for winter, not wanting to open my eyes.
I wanted to hold onto the perfect, pre-awakening haze that held Dawson and I together like glue for the moment. His leg threaded through mine, his fingers cascading along my back slowly as he fought his own consciousness, no doubt.
I curled a little closer to his warm chest, the coarse, sparse hair there tickling my cheek. Pressed so close, I could hear his heartbeat, slow and steady.
I could also feel his semi-erect cock twitching against mine, and the memory of the previous night came flooding back to me, causing my own cock to wake up.
“Good Morning, beautiful.” Dawson’s half-asleep voice shouldn’t have sounded that sexy, but damn if it didn’t wake up every nerve ending in my body.
Instinctively, I ground my cock against him as I buried my head in his shoulder, the taut skin on his neck teasing my lips, baiting me to kiss and suck his flesh until I’d marked him like some teenage vampire.
Mine, mine, mine.
I opened my eyes, my vision blurry until Dawson’s gorgeous face came into focus. I hadn’t remembered taking my glasses off, but I was aware from the semi-blur of shapes behind Dawson that I didn’t have them.
Which made me feel entirely more vulnerable.
That first time you spend the night with someone, where you let them see you underneath all that you present to the world is always nerve-wracking, but when you’re letting the man of your literal dreams see you and your bedhead and your terrible vision first thing in the morning, it’s something else completely.
“Morning,” I said, letting out a yawn, looking up at Dawson from my spot beneath him.
“You don’t have to get up,” he purred, his fingertips tracing lines up and down my spine, hovering just above my bare ass.
