Adriel's mind went white.
His hips stuttered, bucked into Landen's grip, seeking more friction. His head rolled back into the pillow, mouth falling open on a silent scream. His hand, still tangled in Landen's hair, pressed harder, held him closer, kept him there.
Landen pushed his jeans and boxers down, freed his cock into the cool air. Then his grip was back, skin on skin, no barriers. His thumb swiped over the tip, spread the wetness there, made Adriel keen.
His hand began to move. Slow at first. A long, languid stroke from base to tip, squeezing just right, making Adriel's breath hitch. Then another. And another.
Adriel's hips started moving. Small thrusts at first, involuntary, chasing the friction. Then harder, needier, fucking into Landen's grip like it was the only thing keeping him alive. His cock was so hard, so sensitive, soready; every stroke sent lightning up his spine, made his toes curl, made sounds pour from his throat that he didn't recognize.
All the while, Landen's mouth stayed on his nipple. Sucking. Licking. Biting gently. Alternating between soft and hard, between tender and demanding. He seemed to know exactly what Adriel needed before Adriel knew himself. When Adriel's hips stuttered, he sucked harder. When Adriel moaned, he flicked his tongue over the tight peak. When Adriel whimpered, loud and broken and desperate, Landen growled against his skin.
The sound vibrated through Adriel's chest, settled deep in his bones, made him want more.
"Fuck," Landen breathed against his skin. "You sound so good. So fucking good."
Adriel's face burned. But his hips kept moving, kept fucking into that perfect grip, because he couldn't stop. Didn't want to stop.
Landen's hand sped up. Tighter now. Faster. His thumb swiped over the head every time, spreading the wetness, making everything slick and hot and perfect. His other hand roamed his body. Palm pressing into his stomach, fingers digging in, squeezing like he couldn't get enough.
"So soft," Landen murmured against his skin. "So fucking soft. I knew you would be."
Adriel's eyes stung.
No one had ever called him soft like it was a good thing. Like it was something to be wanted. Like it was something to be celebrated.
Landen's mouth moved to his other nipple.
Gave it the same attention; sucking, licking, biting. His hand kept stroking, kept driving him higher, kept building that coil in his belly tighter and tighter.
"You're so pretty," Landen breathed. "You have no idea. No idea howprettyyou are."
Adriel shook his head.
Landen's grip tightened. His stroke slowed, became punishing.
"Don't," he said. His voice was rough, desperate. "Don't argue with me. Not now. Not when I have my hand on your cock and you're making those sounds for me."
Adriel sobbed.
"I've wanted this," Landen continued, mouth moving against his skin. "Wanted you. For months. Every time you walked past my office. Every time you smiled at me. Every time you tucked your head down and tried to make yourself smaller." His teeth grazed Adriel's nipple. "I wanted to tell you. Wanted to show you. Wanted to get my hands on you and make you see."
His hand sped up again.
"See how gorgeous you are. How perfect. How much I want you."
Adriel's hand tightened in his hair. Pulled him closer. Pressed his face harder against his chest because he couldn't take it.
"You drive me crazy," Landen whispered. "You know that? I walk into work and I can't think. Can't focus. Can't do anything except wonder if you're there, if I'll see you, if you'll look at me."
His hips pressed against Adriel's thigh. Showed him the proof; the hard length of him, the want that matched Adriel's own.
"Feel that?" Landen breathed. "That's what you do to me. Every fucking day."
Adriel's breath came in short, sharp gasps. The coil in his belly was wound so tight he thought he might shatter.
"I've never…" he started, voice broken.
"Never what?" Landen's thumb pressed into the slit, made him gasp. "Never been touched like this? Never been told how beautiful you are?"
