Page 186 of Damián

“No…”

“Sure?” I ask, biting the nape of his neck because I know he can’t resist it.

And he can’t.

Oliver melts against me, his hips shifting back against mine.

“Fine. But no sex-sex.” I chuckle, and he glares at me. “As in no penetration, Damián. I mean it.”

“I promise,” I lift my hand like a scout boy. “No sex-sex.”

I press his back against my chest, ensuring the back of his head rests against my clavicle. I slide my hand down the front of his boxers, my fingers wrapping around his length, while my left hand reaches down between his legs.

Oliver turns his head, scowling at me. “Damián, I said no sex-sex.”

“I know what you said… Trust me.” I kiss his cheek. “Now put your hands on the wall.”

Oliver’s breath comes in short gasps, but he does exactly what he is told.

He stretches his arms out, planting both of his palms flat against the wall, and I step closer to him. I curl my left hand up, covering his mouth with my palm to muffle any sudden sounds, and with my free right hand, I pull his cock out of his underwear and move my fist up and down.

Oliver moves between my arms, his hips shaking as he pushes back against me.

“Close your legs,” I instruct him against his ear. “And keep your thighs tightened.”

He nods, locking his thighs together.

I pull my own cock out of my sweatpants and slide it between the tight, warm junction of his closed thighs.

It feels amazing.

I begin to thrust slowly, my length moving back and forth with the friction of his legs. Oliver moans against the palm of my hand, his hips instinctively rolling back into the movement as his fingers claw at the wall. I grip him harder, my right hand curling around both of us to match the pace of my hips.

I thrust between his thighs over and over, my cock sliding under his and into my fist, and then back again, his noises completely muffled by my hand.

Oliver’s body suddenly goes rigid beneath me, and a series of intense tremors wrack his frame as he finds his release against my fingers. His body falls back, and I catch him against my chest, pumping myself until I cum between his thighs, my chest heaving against his back.

I uncover his mouth, turn him around, and devour him. We kiss all the way to the bed, where we go at each other once again.

The next morning, I open my eyes to find Oliver curled tightly against my right side. His head rests on my shoulder, his good arm thrown across my chest as he sleeps soundly.

He always looks younger when he’s asleep… probably because he isn’t scowling.

I lean down, pressing a gentle kiss right between his eyebrows to smooth out the creases he gets from frowning too much, before carefully slipping out from beneath his weight.

I slide out of bed, pull on a clean black t-shirt, and slip out of the room.

As I walk down the hallway toward the kitchen, I’m met with the rich aroma of fresh coffee.

Ah… yes, please.

Fernanda is standing by the counter wearing a pair of oversized, fancy silk sweatpants, probably stolen from Law.

She is pouring boiling water through a plastic drip filter into two ceramic mugs. She looks up as I walk in and smiles.

“Morning. Look at you,” she says, passing a mug across to me. “You actually look rested for once in your life, Dami.”

I take the mug, letting the heat warm my palms before taking a slow sip. “I am rested, Fer. Extremely.”