No interruption.
No witnesses.
The night is ours at last.
Our bodies move together instinctively now, writhing against one another.
Heat builds when he rubs his hip between my thighs.
I can feel every movement of his body.
Every brush of skin.
I’m so gone for this man.
Completely undone.
Warm hands skim along the surface of our underwear.
A soft moan. A sensual kiss.
“Don’t be shy,” I whisper, guiding his hand between my thighs.
He cups me and gives a playful squeeze.
I push him against the door.
My dick is begging to be sucked.
The urge pulses hot and insistent through my body.
But I follow his lead. Always.
It’s as though neither of us want to cross the line too soon, but both of us want it so bad.
A tightrope between desire and patient intrigue.
Then Marco pulls back, just enough to take a breath.
His voice is rough, almost apologetic.
“You know I won't be able to stop if we keep going. But we shouldn't, Amos. Not here.”
The question slips from my mouth before I can stop myself.
“Not here, and never?” His eyes are wild and dark. I can tell he’s battling with desire. “Or just not tonight... but yes, fuck me Amos?”
We hover close. An almost kiss.
But he takes another step back, doing all he can to fight it.
He’s stronger than I am.
“Yes. Fuck me, Amos,” he says. “But not here. Not tonight. Only if you're mine.”
I want this in a way that I’m scared to admit.
I know it will require patience.
