Page 77 of Shattered Dreams

And I love it.

I love him so fucking much it hurts.

“Is that so?” He shrugs his shirt off, cocking his head to the side to shift some hair out of his eyes. He’s mere feet away and I could easily get up, meet him halfway. Tear off his nice pants and free his cock. But I want him to come to me.

I want to remember this moment—the moment I fuck him—forever. And something tells me I will.

And so will he.

I lean one hand behind my head, spreading my legs as I lazily stroke myself, making a point of slowly spreading my precum along my shaft. His gaze drifts to my cock and I note how he grabs himself through his slacks, a low, deep groan escaping his throat.

“You look so fucking hot right now, Paul,” he says, shaking his head.

“I know,” I grin.

He lets out a low laugh as he unbuckles his belt. I don’t move from my spot. I can’t.

Even if I wanted to, I’m frozen by the sight of him like this. Standing inches away from me as he frees his cock for me. Precum glistens over his head, shimmering in the light with the undeniable truth. He comes to stand next to the bed, now inches away from me. He doesn’t move, and neither do I, but I don’t rush him.

I want to savor this, but I also don’t want to do this if he isn’t ready for it. I’ll wait until he’s comfortable. I’ll wait as long as I have to. If I turn into a skeleton, so be it.

I half expect him to say something to taunt me, to bait me a bit. But he doesn’t. Instead, he sets one knee on the bed and carefully crawls over top of me, his cock sliding against mine, and the only words that escape him as he kisses me are, “How do you want me?”

I swear I’ve never heard words so sexy in my life. I groan, kissing him hard. I shove my tongue into his mouth, and it’s like something inside of me snaps.

I don’t wait. I don’t hesitate.

I pull his body against me, crushing our dicks together, and then roll us over until he’s beneath me, his cock sliding up against my stomach.

“Like this,” I whisper as I lean back down to capture his mouth with mine. When I pull away, he keeps my gaze, but I hear him opening the nightstand drawer. I don’t have to ask what he’s doing, because we’re already halfway through the single bottle of lube we bought, given the fact we have been enjoying each other—together, and separately—all weekend.

He offers me the bottle as if it’s made of glass, but it’s the look in his eyes that says everything.

I don’t take it.

I lick my lips and carefully push it against his hand.

“Put it on me,” I command, my voice low and dark even to my own ears.

I wait for him to change his mind. I’d hate it if he did, but I would understand if he did, and I wouldn’t push him if he really tapped out.

He twirls the bottle in his hand for a moment, then pops the cap.

I swear it’s an eternity between the opening of that cap, and when his fingers spread the cool, smooth liquid over my aching hardness. I groan as he slowly, torturously strokes my cock, and I already feel my orgasm starting to build.

I carefully push his hand off ‌me; holding his gaze as I nudge his legs apart, and he widens his stance, bending his knees and settling his feet flat on the bed.

His admission is wordless but is understood nonetheless in that one swift motion. I guide his hand between his legs; his fingers to his hole. He follows my lead as I push his lubricated fingers over his seam, into his entrance. My finger slides in with his, and the moment it does, I watch him arch his back, his lips parting, that Adam’s apple bobbing as he groans.

I move to remove my finger, but he stops me with his free hand.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” he bites, and I can’t help but grin as I kiss him while slowly stretching him, until I have to stop because I think I could come just like this.

As much as I want to, I know I need to take my time. It’ll be worth it. I’m sure of it.

I whisper against his lips, and he doesn’t fight me when I remove my finger this time. He does the same. My heart races as I gaze down at him.

Say it.