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“It’s killing me not to.”
“Please don’t die.”
“I won’t.”
Gideon pulled back, then thrust in again, and… “Oh! Again.” He did, over and over and over. “God, Gideon. Fuck me. Please fuck me.” This was why people asked for it. This was why people told their partners to do what they were already doing; because it was perfect, and wonderful, and each time his dick moved inside me, pleasure zinged down my spine.
I stroked myself faster, closed my eyes.
“Look at me. I want you to look at me while I fuck you.”
And that should be so annoying, but it wasn’t. I opened my eyes and watched him, our gazes locked as Gideon pumped his hips, fucking me and loving me and making me feel even more like I was his. Topping was fantastic, but having someone in your body, being full of them and stretched by them was indescribable. I had a feeling it was only like that because it was Gideon.
He bent forward as if he was going to kiss me, and I wanted it, wanted it so bad, but then I remembered what he’d done to me, where his mouth and tongue had been. As if he could read my thoughts, Gideon stopped, then just rubbed his cheek against mine.
This was perfect. It was everything. I wondered how long we had to wait to do it again.
“Fuck, I’m not going to last,” Gideon admitted.
“Me neither.”
The sound of our bodies slapping together filled the room, dancing with sporadic words and sharp breaths.
It felt like it came out of nowhere, like one second I was fine and the next my body was shattering in the best possible way. Like I was feeling everything I had ever enjoyed in that one moment when my sac tightened and my load spurted from my cock. Cum splattered on my stomach and chest, another pulse each time Gideon thrust his hips forward, until he’d drained my balls.
“Fuck!” he growled, his dick spasming, his jaw tight, and his muscles flexing as he came inside me. That was exactly what it felt like, as if there was no condom between us and my body had milked an orgasm out of him to keep it deep inside.
My vision was fuzzy, my body loose and so relaxed I felt like I could melt into a puddle on the bed. Gideon kissed my forehead, my lips, my neck as laughter bubbled from deep in my chest, spilling from my lips. I was so happy and sated and in love. “I like that…a lot. I like you. I want to do it again. Not tonight, because I’m going to be sore, but soon. Gideon…you were inside me.”
He smiled. “I know. I liked it too.”
I pulled him down so he was against me, not caring about the cum between us. I just needed to touch him everywhere. I squeezed him tight, never wanting to come down from this high.
I was half-asleep when I heard his phone go off. “Who is it?” I asked.
“Just my brother. It’s no biggie.” Gideon turned it off, and I slipped into darkness.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Gideon
I couldn’t get over last night.
I’d lost my virginity at eighteen, and I’d hooked up with a lot of guys since then, but none of it had ever felt like that. It wasn’t the sex so much as it was the fact that Milo trusted me, that he gave me that piece of himself even though he was nervous and wasn’t sure if it would be for him; that he knew if we started and he didn’t like it or wasn’t comfortable, that I would stop, no questions asked, and would never make him feel bad about it.
But entangled together with all that was guilt because I hadn’t gone to Orlando’s party, and I hadn’t told Milo about it. So, I’d not only ditched my brother, but I’d kept his birthday get-together from my boyfriend. I had to admit, that wasn’t a good look.
I’d wanted to tell Milo last night, but it hadn’t seemed right after the sex. I knew Milo well enough to know he’d put thought into our night before it happened, and I hadn’t wanted to be like…Well, my bro is getting drunk at the Lighthouse. Wanna go hang out there when we both know you’ll probably hate it? But what excuse did I have for not telling him earlier? And hell, if I was being honest, I still could’ve said something after we’d been together. We could have gone late. Orlando had texted to ask where I was. That would have been the perfect opportunity.
I tried to tell myself Orlando would understand. People didn’t make it to parties all the time, but I still felt uncomfortable about it, and I hated that. When we’d woken, I’d planned to tell him, but then Beverly showed up with doughnuts for us and coffee for her since neither Milo nor I drank it.
