I have to close my eyes and control the moan that wants to come out of me when I spread lube over my now painful dick. This is way hotter than I thought it would be. My heart is beating so erratically it’s a little hard to breathe. I’m lightheaded as though the room is low on oxygen.
When I nudge Shiloh’s leg forward with a knee pressed behind his, he groans and rolls forward, hips shifting as he adjusts. I freeze, skin tingling and heart skipping as I wait to see if he woke up. I’m pretty sure I’ll know the exact moment he shifts from asleep to pretending to be so. I get away with it, though, which has my pulse zinging with a slightly perverse pleasure. I’m suddenly very invested in keeping him asleep for as long as possible.
I push him forward slightly with my body, trying to anchor his top leg against the mattress so he can’t move it as I slide my cock between his thighs. Despite how hard I’m biting my lip, I can’t help the groan that escapes. The space between his legs is hot and tight and slick from the lube I coated myself with. I can feel where my dick is pressed along his, catching on his sack and taint, and it is so hard not to let myself move, not to thrust hard and come inside that warm pocket of Shiloh.
“Shit,” I mutter, dropping my forehead down to his arm and spinning out enough to let the word escape.
“Ewan,” Shiloh murmurs sleepily, shifting again and clenching his legs around me. I can’t help it this time and rock my hips, thrusting into that slippery heat, breaths already panting from the effort it takes to hold back.
I can feel every centimeter of drag as I rock my hips into him. Arm shaking from the effort of holding myself up for so long, I rest back down beside him and scratch my teeth over the back of his neck. Not biting down, just firing up the nerve endings and letting them know I might. It fully wakes Shiloh up, and I know it immediately by the way he stops breathing. I rock harder and faster, flattening my palm on his leg to hold it down, to tighten the space I’m thrusting into. He doesn’t tell me to stop, nor does he tell me he’s awake. He’s still, almost perfectly relaxed and pliant. I continue fucking into him and pretend I don’t know he’s conscious.
He keeps his thighs clenched when I let go and even goes so far as to slide his top leg back into me, not unlike the way someone might shift in their sleep. Hand free, I slip it down in front of him and reach for his dick. Still trying to maintain the illusion, I don’t stroke him. Instead, I tease the head with my thumb, pressing into the tip and playing with his foreskin. I’m not the only one breathing erratically now, and Shiloh shifts in a way that makes me think he’s pressing his face into the pillow.
The blanket slides from our shoulders to pool at Shiloh’s waist, my movements smooth and steady and gaining in speed as the burn in my pelvis spreads. An orgasm is working its way up my spine, little tendrils of pleasure twisting through my body. I don’t make any effort to get Shiloh there. I continue to take my own pleasure the way he asked me to, using his body like a toy. I play with him because I want to, not because I have any desire to get him off. He’s warm and slick and motionless, lying there for me to take, take, take.
Hand still on his dick, I press my thumb hard into his slit, and his hips buck. I follow him, pushing him forward as I thrust into his lube-slicked thighs. The noise he makes is almost animalistic, a groan so low and deep I swear I can feel it reverberate in my bones. Gasping, I come, my cock trapped on the back slide, seed spilling between his legs and adding to the mess. I thrust into it, groaning at the overstimulation but unable to stop moving. Sliding my hand to his thigh, I keep rocking and moaning and trying to wring every ounce of pleasure out of something that’s starting to hurt. Shiloh comes a second later, body shivering beneath mine.
Time fuzzes, and my senses narrow further. Everything is tapered down to the ache of pleasure and the warmth of the room, sweat, slick, and panting breaths. Overstimulated now, I roll back off Shiloh, letting him up, my spent dick sliding soft from between his legs. Resting flat on my back, I take my first full lungful of air, eyes closed.
“Holy shit,” I whisper.
The mattress shifts. I crack open an eye just quickly enough to see Shiloh’s hand reaching for my face. I close it again, smiling into his mouth as he kisses me. I hum, feeling incredibly happy. Also, incredibly short of breath as Shiloh kisses it away.
He lies down on his back beside me, close enough that our arms and hips and knees touch. The blanket has long been kicked to the end of the bed, and the cool air of the room feels heavenly on my skin. Soon, I know, it’ll be too much, and I’ll get cold, but for right now, it’s perfect. Shiloh gives me a minute more of silence before speaking, voice low and rough with sleep.
“Ewan?”
“Half of him, anyway,” I joke weakly. I’m pretty sure I lost fifty percent of my brain cells in that orgasm. Oh well, I probably won’t miss them anyway.
“Okay?” he asks, the single word loaded with a whole lot of questions.
“I’ll accept any performance reviews you might have. Hopefully, the rating is high enough to do that again, because, Shi, I think I might be ruined for vanilla sex after that.”
He laughs, rolling to face me. I turn my head to the side to meet him halfway, lips pressed together in a chaste peck of a kiss that feels like love.
“Thank you. I didn’t expect that to be so…much,” he finishes shyly. I get it, though. I’m not a wordsmith either, but if I were to try and paint the feeling, it would be black and white and the cerulean of Shiloh’s eyes. It would be flashes of light in the dark and warm, safe,Shilohblue.
“Is that how you pictured things going?” We didn’t exactly plan out a full itinerary when he brought it up, and I couldn’t figure out the mechanics of prepping someone for anal without waking them up.
“Better. Much better,” he replies, voice soft and satisfied. I smile up at the ceiling. We breathe together for a few moments, Shiloh’s hand resting atop mine, fingers rubbing back and forth. He sighs. “I suppose we’d better wash.”
“I did mess you up a bit,” I say proudly, and then groan when Shiloh chooses to roll over me and exit the bed on my side. He snags my hand as he does, pulling me along.
“Come on, love,” he requests. I shiver at the endearment, my body perking up as though those four little letters were fingers stroked down my spine.Love. I let myself be led, happy to follow wherever he wants to lead.
Chapter Twenty-Two
SHILOH
Ispend the first few days of my five-day vacation engaging in what I’m thinking of as extreme dating. If I were born in a different century, I suppose it could be said I’m trying to woo Ewan. Essentially, I’m making love to him every night and dragging him out the door every morning, tugging him along behind me to every beautiful and exciting thing Siren’s Point has to offer. We go hiking, stand-up paddleboarding, and sea glass hunting. I drive us into the city and spend more money than I make in a month on a single dinner. I exchange more text messages with Oliver in a day than we’ve shared in the entire time I’ve known him, looking for cooking advice and beginner recipes. I ask Ewan if I can see what he’s been working on and am summarily turned down. On the fourth day of my vacation, I’m downstairsmaking breakfast and planning to take Ewan to the beach when he walks downstairs and drops a grenade.
“Daniel booked me a gallery opening tomorrow.”
I fumble the egg I’m holding, nearly dropping it. Looking over my shoulder at him, I’m slightly gratified to find him looking unhappy. If he’d been smiling at the prospect of leaving—in a fuckingday, no less—I might have cried. Hell, I still might.
“Oh. That’s good?” Despite my best efforts, it comes out as a question. Is it good, Ewan? Is it? Or is it the beginning of the end?
“Yeah,” he agrees, frowning down at his phone and sliding the toe of one socked foot over the hardwood. He fidgets when he’s uncomfortable, and I try to make it better. Business as usual.
