His hands grip your hips. He pulls your cheeks apart, but he doesn’t try to fuck you. Instead, he leans over and slides his cock up your crack, hot dogging it between your cheeks. You don’t know whether to sigh in relief or cry in frustration. Your whole body is wound tight as a clothesline. Could possibly snap. The heat of his body feels glorious against the cold, and he covers you like a blanket, almost lifting the toes of your shiny shoes off the ground as he holds you in place. The height difference is not ideal, but he’s making it work. Kai has strong knees. He has strongeverything, and feeling his body move against you in a pale imitation of sex feels empty. All up against your ass, his cock is hard and hot. He’s not moving a lot, because he’s going to slip out of place if he does, but there’s friction against your sensitive hole, and it makes you groan.
Kai’s breathing hard, panting harsh through his nose. He’s palming your hips, though, his fingers curling in a way that’sdistinctly at odds with his harsh words. Your body is a live wire, your untouched cock throbbing. You can’t see it with your face shoved against the table, but you can feel yourself leaking pre-cum. It’s either ending up on your pants or on the floor. You don’t care. His name is a lump in your throat, and you need to get it out.
“Kai,” you utter desperately.
He freezes. “Do you want me to stop?” he asks. Even as turned-on as he obviously is, he sounds anxious.
Him stopping is thelastthing you want. “Please let me see you,” you beg, fully expecting him to refuse.
It’s so cold outside, but the air between you two is muggy and charged when he grabs you and spins you around, then hoists you atop the table. This way, the height difference between you two is negligible. Even in the darkness, Kai’s eyes flash like black diamonds. You thought his face would look harder. There’s an inscrutable expression written across his features. His gaze bores into you.
He pumps more aloe vera into his palm, and takes both your cocks into his big hand. The heat of his fingers and the slide of his dick against yours make your thigh muscles tighten. When you grab his shoulders, he doesn’t reprimand you. You hate his clothes for existing, for standing between you and his skin. Even through the layers of cloth, you can feel his arm working you both, making you crazy. The heat is driving you insane. That’s the only explanation you can ponder for what breaks through your lips.
“I miss you,” you murmur.
His hand spasms, momentarily pushing his grip over to the wrong side of painful. You yelp a bit, but he quickly corrects himself. Kai doesn't respond. Instead, he drops his head, leaning his forehead against yours. It’s…unexpectedly tender. His forehead is perspiring, and his face is a dark blur. Your hands on his trapezius muscles slide to his neck, to feel his racing pulse beneath his collar of pearls.
“Tell me you miss me, too,” you insist.
He makes a strangled sound in his throat. You feel it rumble beneath your fingers.
“Of course I miss you,” he grits out. “It’s driving me crazy. Why… fuck. Why won’t youapologize, Sterling?”
To his credit, his hand hasn’t stopped pumping your cocks. You could say that you were carried away on the heat and friction, and that would be almost true, but it’s not the reason you don’t just do what he wants and say you’re sorry.
“I don’t like us fighting,” you say weakly.
Kai huffs. His mouth is two short inches from yours, and you cantastethe fact that you said the wrong thing. His palm rolls over the crowns of your dicks, making you shiver. You tilt your head up and close the space between your lips, desperate to suck the words back out of his mouth.
This time, the kiss is slower. Hotter. It could have to do with the fact that you are both close, but you don’t think that’s all. Kai’s free hand steals up from where it was gripping the edge of the table. Fumbling, he touches the elastic tie holding your hair back. His fingers are shaking as he undoes it. An hour of your stylist’s work ironing out your curls and then slicking and smoothing the ponytail goes to hell as your hair falls down yourback. Kai gets his hand under it, cupping your ear and scalp. He’s always loved your hair, and he loves it now, bunching it in his fingers and carding it like silk. It pulls just a little, and the feeling makes you loose and unsteady.
“I love you,” you whisper.
Kai shudders at those words. Sighs, and comes, semen erupting over both your dicks. The heat and stickiness of it, the additional lubrication, finishes you off. Recklessly, you suck another kiss from his parted lips as your orgasm shakes through you.
After, he cleans up the mess with some shop rags that he finds on the shelving, and you manage to get your pants fastened with shaking fingers. You perch back on the table, not trusting your legs just yet. Your tuxedo jacket is a disgusting tapestry of smudged brown stains, and there are some very damning wet spots on the crotch of your pants. Your hair is also a lost cause. Kai, somehow, looks physically untouched by everything that has gone on. Even without a mirror, he looks perfect, his pin-tucked shirt and his handsome suit impeccable, nothing more disturbed than the clasp of his pearl necklace having rotated around to the front. (You wish there was evidence.)
“Are we broken up?” you ask him.
He doesn’t look up from brushing invisible dust off the rear of his pants. “You tell me.”
His voice sounds gruff and tired.
“I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking you. Is that what this—” You gesture between the two of you, “was about? Breakup sex?”
“Thisshouldn’t have happened,” he says stiffly. “My head’s not screwed on straight. Saw you and forgot why I was upset.”
“So, don’t be upset. Do youwantto break up?”
Kai keeps his eyes on the ground, straightening the diamond bracelet on his wrist. “I keep expecting to read about it online,” he says slowly. “Maybe, if I’m lucky, your lawyer will text me and tell me that it’s over. Since you get to gatekeep the relationship and all.”
You’re too wrung out to follow his train of thought. “What are you talking about?”
His snort has that same, exhausted dejection. “You decided when we were official, remember? I found that out from a lawyer, too. We joked about me getting a promotion. I got to sign a new NDA and everything. Will there be another one when I’m your ex? Make sure I don’t run my mouth?”
“I just want to know,” you insist. Your voice sounds small. “Are we taking a break?”
He shakes his head. “Only flaky-ass people take breaks,” he says. “If you really love someone, you just need space sometimes. Do you actually love me, Sterling? Or wasthisjust something else that you needed?”
