“Adrian…” His voice was a broken whisper. “Don’t stop touching me.”
My hands roamed slowly over his ribs, his back, the muscles that went tight with each shaky breath. I kissed the wet track of tears down his cheek, then his jaw, then the hollow beneath his ear that always made him shiver.
He did. Hard.
“Lie back,” I murmured.
His pupils blew wide, his hands sliding from my shirt down to my wrists. “Here?”
“Here,” I said. “Unless you want the bed.”
His throat bobbed as he swallowed. “Here is fine.”
I eased him back onto the couch, covering his body with mine, holding most of my weight on my elbows so he felt encircled, not trapped. His hands slid into my hair, tugging gently, grounding himself.
“You don’t have to be brave,” I whispered, brushing my nose down his throat. “Not with me.”
Eli released a strangled moan and lifted his hips instinctively. I groaned involuntarily because that was all it took to undo me.
I kissed him again, slow this time, deep, lingering. A kiss that says,I’m not going anywhere.His lips parted, tongue sliding along mine with a desperate tenderness that made my chest ache.
“Touch me,” he breathed against my mouth.
“I am.”
“More.”
I slid my hand under his shirt, over warm skin that flexedand quivered under my palm. He arched into it, eyes fluttering closed. His breath dragged in sharply when my fingers traced the lines of his abs, drifting lower, lower?—
He shivered. “Adrian…”
“Say what you need.”
He pushed his head back against the cushion, chest rising and falling fast. “I need you to remind me I’m alive.”
I kissed down his throat, slow and reverent. “Oh, baby,” I murmured, heat pooling low and fierce. “I can do that.”
And I did—touch by touch, breath by breath—until the tremors in his body weren’t fear anymore but want.
Eli’s chest rose fast, every breath warm against my mouth, every inch of him caught between wanting more and bracing for too much. I could feel the war inside him, and the part of him that desperately wanted to surrender.
I kissed him again, slowly coaxing his tongue into my mouth, letting him feel my restraint even as my pulse hammered.
His fingers tightened in my hair. “Adrian…”
I dragged my lips down the column of his throat, pausing when he sucked in a breath and tilted his head instinctively.
“Here?” I murmured, letting my mouth hover over his pulse.
His grip spasmed. “Yes.”
I pressed an open-mouthed kiss there, and he made a low, broken sound that shot straight to my balls. I let my tongue trace the edge of his jaw, then dipped lower, tasting salt and skin and the feel of him coming back to himself under my hands.
He shifted his hips again, a soft, unconscious grind that made my vision go a little hazy.
“Careful,” I warned, voice rough.
“Why?” His eyes opened, dark and wide, pupils blown so big they swallowed the color. “You’re the one who said not to be brave with you.”
