“Then stop grinding against me,” he whispers. I didn’t even realize I was doing it. But my dick is on its own mission, and I don’t stop. And then his lips are right there so I claim them too.
“You have to be quiet,” I whisper against his mouth.
“Youhave to be quiet,” he retorts on an exhale.
I pull down his boxer briefs, wrapping a hand around him.
“You’re louder than me.”
“Fuck off, I’m no—ungh,” he moans, as I start stroking him. He quickly pulls down my boxers and takes a firm grip around my length.
“Shh!”
“You fucking shh!”
I chuckle but it’s cut off by my own groan as he strokes me with a firm grip.
“I wanna be inside you,” I breathe against his lips, thrusting into his fist.
“I want that too, but you invited third-wheeler out there to dinner,” he moans, making me chuckle. Then he stops, looks at me and pulls off the duvet from us both before he dives down, placing himself with his mouth at my dick, and my mouth at his.
“Technically inside, and we’ll both be muted,” he chuckles before he licks the tip of my dick. I’m still laughing as I wrap my lips around him, but I quickly shut up when he swallows medown, hands on my ass as he presses me closer to him, and I’m hoping to hell Seth’s bedroom walls are thick enough to muffle our sounds.
52
Seth
Iwakeupthenext day in a tangle of arms, legs and a twisted sheet. Kaden’s still sleeping, his hair a complete mess, and he still looks like a dream.
What if this was my life? To wake up next to Kaden every day, and spend the nights with our bodies pressed together? To eat breakfast in bed, and hold hands while watching a movie, making dinner together, showering together.
And I’d get to kiss and touch him whenever I wanted, and he’d want that too. He’d hold me until we fell asleep and wake me up with kisses on my forehead.
And I’d parade around with him, showing him off, and let the world know that this man loves me. He chose me, with everything I am, and everything I lack. He still chose me.
Get in loser, we’re going to Delusion Town!
Kaden’s morning wood is poking my thigh, and as much as I’d love to do something about that, the sound of Iggy padding around in the kitchen puts an end to that thought. I quietly remove myself from under his arm and pull the duvet up over hischest before I take a piss and a quick shower and then tiptoes out of the bedroom.
“Morning, sleepyhead,” Iggy quips around a cup of coffee.
“What time is it?”
“Ten-thirty. I’ve been up for hours,” she beams, like she didn’t black out on my couch last night from damn near alcohol poisoning. “There’s coffee and eggs.”
“Where did you find eggs?” I frown. Can’t remember the last time I had eggs at home.
“I went out to get it. Also, is that Dr Barbara eye patches in your fridge?”
“Yeah,” I say, filling a cup of coffee for myself and drop down on the chair beside her.
“Are they yours?”
I glance at her. “Yeah, they’re mine.”
She hums, taking a sip.
“What?” My stomach flips as I wait for her verdict.
