Pleasure tips into discomfort. This is too much.
“Fuck—Tom, stop—”
He looks up at me with dark eyes full of no good. Every flick of his tongue leaves me gasping for air. I grab his shoulders, laughing and cursing at the same time.
He finally lets me go. His mouth curls into a wicked grin as he wipes his lips with the back of his hand.
I stumble to the wall, bracing myself to catch my breath.
One look over my shoulder tells me he’s already planning round two.
He pushes himself up from the kitchen floor, nudging a half-empty paint can aside as he walks over. His arms slide around my waist from behind, all tender and sweetness while I’m still trying to reconnect my brain.
“Love, I need you to listen to me, alright?”
He says it like he’s about to drop something completely unhinged. I nod and let it happen.
“I’ve been a very well-behaved pup. This is the longest period I’ve ever been patient. Right now, I need to slam my cock inside your perfect peachy ass for a variety of obvious reasons. Do you understand?”
He spits the words out all clinical and demanding, like he’s trying to remind me he’s the one in charge.
I don’t bother answering. I just turn and scoop him off the floor, slinging him over my shoulder like a hunted deer.
He throws a little fit along the way, kicking his legs and calling me all kinds of things in Scots, but I’m already halfway to the bedroom, grinning like an idiot.
I dump him onto the bed. He bounces once, then glares at me, pretending to be very furious.
I strip down fast and crawl beside him, the perfectly made sheets ruined already. I take off my underwear and throw it in his face.
“Go ahead,” I say, all confident. “Show me what you bring to the table.”
The sinful twinkle in his eyes tells me his mind is running wild, probably sorting through all the possibilities like being in a candy store, not sure what to try first.
It’s honestly adorable. Tom is pure bottom energy, even when he’s pretending otherwise. The more he plays at being in charge, the more transparent it becomes. I’m just waiting for the day he understands what he actually wants. To be pinned down. To be met with something stronger than his own defiance. To be seen through all that attitude, and given exactly what he’s been asking for without knowing how to say it.
But surrender means trust. And after what Emily put him through, I don’t think he’s ever gotten that part back.
So I’ll give him time and space. He’ll get there. And when he does, he’ll know he’s safe with me.
Chapter thirty-nine
Tom
“Come on,” I mutter, poking at the AC remote. Great, nothing happens. Meanwhile, there’s a Greek statue waiting for me on the bed.
Yosh is flat on his stomach, legs swinging in the air like he’s watching the clouds. Except we’re inside, and he’s only wearing socks.
Socks!
I don’t know what kind of spell those things have over me, but it’s easily the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.
I need this AC to work. I’ve been boiling ever since I told him how I feel. And yes, it felt damn good to get that off my chest.
What felt even better? The way he kissed me after. Like that kiss was his answer.
And if I’m right—and I think I am—that means your boy is in a relationship.
For once, I hadn’t sabotaged or talked myself out of it. It’s the first time I’ve run toward commitment instead of away fromit. I’m sure we can call that progress with the best outcome possible.
