Page 67
“I’m fine,” I mumble. “I just can’t sleep. Don’t worry about it.”
He sits up and rests his hand on my head. His skin is cool and I nestle into his touch. The moonlight coming through the window illuminates his expressive face as he watches the movement of his hand. He looks sombre.
“Okay?” I whisper.
His smile is the one he saves just for me. “I’m fine. Does your head still hurt?”
“A little bit.” I grimace. “My body just has too much energy.”
“I can feel how you’re fidgeting.” He runs his finger down my cheek and over my jaw, ending up at my mouth. I drop a kiss on his finger and he cocks his head. “Will you let me take care of you?” he says in a low voice.
I shift on the mattress, because I know that tone of voice very well.
“I should—” I clear my throat. “I should be looking after you. You’re the one who I hurt.”
“You didn’t,” he says, tapping my face. “Look at me.” I obey him. It’s hard to hold his eyes suddenly, but he waits patiently until I do. He cups my cheek. “There hasn’t been a second since I met you that I didn’t love you. Ask me why.”
“Why?” I whisper.
“Because you’re the best man I have ever, or will ever, meet. You’re clever, brave, and loyal, but most of all you are kind. I spent a large portion of my childhood with people who weren’t any of those things, so trust me to know the difference. You were possessed, Levi. None of that was you and I know it in here.” He pats his chest and then lays that hand over my heart. “Just like I know you feel it too where it counts. Let it go, please. Take a deep breath.” I obey and he nods, satisfied. “Now another and another.”
I do as he says, feeling the cold air fill my lungs. He watches me, his eyes colourless in the moonlight, and trails his hand down my torso. He traces my abs, rubbing his fingers over my ribs, and then scratches slyly through my happy trail. And suddenly, all my energy and jitteriness translates into a sudden and certain want. A want so deep I can feel it in my bones and fizzing through my blood. My cock stiffens and rises, jerking slightly, and still, he watches me. His eyes are hooded now and he licks his lips.
“Let me look after you,” he says softly.
I let my legs fall open and push up towards the hand still on my belly. My dick feels engorged with blood, heavy and thick.
He moves almost languidly, as though he has all the time in the world. Resting on one elbow, he looks at me for a second and then leans in and licks my nipple. It stiffens and the pleasure is a sharp little zap. I let out a soft grunt, raising my chest, mutely asking for more, and he doesn’t make me wait. He licks the bud before suckling it hard the way I like it, and I hesitate before raising my hands and gently cupping his head.
He obviously feels the pause and looks up at me. “You can always touch me,” he says hoarsely. “Always. Because I will never stop wanting you, Levi.”
We gaze at each other for a long moment and then I tug at his hair, cupping his skull and pulling him into my chest. I cry out as he bites my nipple and moves to the other, licking and biting until it peaks, my skin gleaming with his spit.
I keep my hands loose in his wavy hair, just enjoying the feel of his skin against mine, the warmth and scent of peaches enveloping me like a gauzy cloud that shelters me from anything that came before. It’s just us here in our bed.
His lips curve into a smile when our eyes catch and hold. The smile is tender and warm, and I let go of him as he moves, dropping kisses over my torso, pausing occasionally to bite gently at the skin before moving on, kissing a mole here or there. He works his way down to my belly button, suckling a kiss into it, but I make no attempt to push him towards my cock.
The pleasure is warm and sun bright, and I feel almost drowsy with it. My reality has narrowed down to the touch of his body and those bright eyes of his always watching me and gauging my state of mind.
He drops a belt of kisses over the soft skin of my groin, nuzzling into the hair and inhaling. My cock jerks, spilling a stream of precome that glistens in the moonlight, and I make a soft sound of dismay as he bypasses it and moves downwards.
“Patience,” he says softly. “I’m taking care of you now.”
I nod and then let my eyes fall closed, drifting in pleasure as he kisses down my legs. He massages my calves and suckles the sharp bone of my ankle, gnawing at it like a small animal. He moves away and I make a sound of distress, suddenly cold. I realise he’s reaching for something on the bedside table, and then he’s back blanketing me in warmth again. I hear the click of a cap and inhale the scent of peppermint and rosemary. When he touches me next, his hands are warm and supple with body lotion.
He kneads at the sore muscles in my legs, working down my calves in long strokes, and then cupping my feet, pressing a spot on them that he knows will release the tension. He often does this after I’ve been for a run. I sigh in pleasure, and he chuckles, the sound surprisingly light and airy in the quiet room.
“Turn over,” he says, his voice low.
I obey, heaving my tired body over and burying my head in the pillow as he starts to massage my shoulders. His hands are firm and knowing and there’s an unspeakable pleasure in being with someone who knows my body the way he does. It’s so casual—as if my body is quite simply an extension of his own.
Those clever hands move down, kneading the tight muscles and working out the kinks. He runs his finger down my spine, and a bolt of sudden intense pleasure runs through me. My balls tighten and I cry out.
“Hush,” he whispers. “Don’t wake the bedbugs.”
His hands move on, as inexorable as the tide. He cups my buttocks and then pulls away. I hear him squirting more lotion onto his palms, and the room fills with the warm, sensual scent. I moan as his hands return to my buttocks and knead them. The pressure pushes me into the mattress, and I groan, feeling the soft sheets rub against my cock.
“On your back,” he says.
