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“Please, baby. Let me suck your cock,” Rafe begged.
Philippe’s dick ached and throbbed, demanding to allow Rafe to have him, but Philippe clamped on his remaining shreds of control. Rafe was exquisite. Every inch of him was beautifully flushed, and a light sheen of sweat was starting to glisten across his chest and brow. Wild, hungry eyes watched him as he bent again and ran his tongue up along Rafe’s rigid length. He sucked just the tip inside of his mouth, lapping up all the pre-cum. The wonderful salty taste danced on his tongue, and he was tempted to bring him to completion just like this, but Philippe longed for something else.
Sliding one hand from Rafe’s thigh, he gently brushed across his sac and down along his perineum before circling his hole.
“Oh God,” Rafe sighed, his eyes falling closed in a look of relief. “Yes, please. Please hurry.”
Grabbing the lube from the tousled comforter, Philippe quickly squeezed a sizable dollop on his fingers and rubbed them together, warming the viscous liquid. He returned one finger to Rafe. His lover moaned and pressed down, trying to force Philippe inside of him.
A low chuckle escaped Philippe, and he ignored the fact that it sounded breathless and eager. “In a hurry? I thought we had an eternity.”
“Do not be evil, Philippe. Between us, I am the evil one,” Rafe snarled.
“Is this what you’re so desperately searching for?” Philippe asked. He pressed just the tip of his finger inside, stopping at the first knuckle. When he moved no farther, Rafe swore and lifted his head to glare at Philippe.
“Philippe!” Rafe shouted.
Philippe laughed again. He removed his finger completely, and Rafe sucked in a breath as if he were preparing to shout again. Philippe never gave him the chance. He shoved two fingers deep inside, stretching him. Rafe’s back bowed off the bed and he cried out.
“Do you want more?”
“Yes.”
He slid his fingers in and out a couple of times, relishing the little sounds he was pulling from Rafe, before he finally pushed in three fingers. Rafe gasped and stiffened. Philippe held perfectly still, allowing Rafe a moment to breathe through the pain. With his free hand, Philippe reached up and wrapped his fingers around Rafe’s straining cock. He stroked him slowly, relighting the fire that burned in Rafe’s body.
Rafe was a beautiful thing to behold. He gave himself over so completely to every experience, trusting Philippe to protect and take care of him along the way. That trust was so precious to Philippe. He never wanted to do anything to cause Rafe to rip it away.
“Please, Philippe, I want you now. Don’t make us wait.”
No, Philippe didn’t want to wait another second. He pulled his fingers free of Rafe’s body and snatched up the lube. He poured some on his aching cock and tossed it aside again. Inching closer, he rubbed the head against Rafe’s entrance, while bracing one hand next to Rafe’s shoulder. He paused to stare down at the vampire’s wet, swollen lips. Bright-blue eyes stared up at him, watching him with a heady mix of trust, hunger, and love. God, he didn’t know what he’d done in this life to deserve that look, but he was so grateful to be there in that moment.
Philippe pressed forward and all clear thought was ripped from his brain. He became aware of only intense heat and the wonderful tight grip of Rafe’s body. He pushed forward inch by slow inch, dragging out the initial penetration as long as possible. Rafe moaned and tried to move, tried to impale himself, but Philippe gripped his hip with his other hand, holding him still.
When he was fully seated, his balls pressed to Rafe’s sweet ass, he lowered himself to his elbow. His chest pressed against Rafe so that he could feel each heartbeat next to his own. He could feel the push of each ragged breath. Rafe wrapped his legs around Philippe’s hips, drawing them even tighter together. Flesh touching flesh everywhere.
This was what had been missing their first time together, when Philippe had let fear and insecurity hold him back from Rafe. When they’d rushed, frantically chasing after something they were sure would be ripped away before they could grab it.
There was no fear and no rush this time. Nothing was going to steal their moment away. They’d finally achieved the connection they had been searching for over the long years.
Philippe gently threaded the fingers of his left hand through Rafe’s hair, pushing the sweaty tendrils from his forehead. Wonderful, perceptive eyes watched him. Loved him.
“You’re perfect. And you’re mine.”
“Always,” Rafe murmured. His voice was rough, and even that one word sounded a little slurred, as if he were drunk on pleasure.
Philippe pulled back and gave a small, shallow thrust. He made love to Rafe slowly, kissing him, exploring his mouth like it was the first and last time they’d ever have a moment like this. He rocked into him and Rafe moved in rhythm, rubbing his hard and leaking dick against Philippe’s stomach. Each sound and taste was catalogued in his brain so that the memory would be perfectly preserved. He wanted to remember everything about this.
