Page 36 of I'm Not in Love


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He’s not distracted by the lighthearted banter. “Physically, you define beautiful.”

When I grasp the hem of his black Henley and lift, he reluctantly releases me. I step back to study his chest—broad and fit and dusted with dark fur. “You aren’t so bad yourself.”

“It’s more than your beauty I’m attracted to, though. It’s… it’s you.” Remi pulls me against him. “You have a gentle soul.”

“I accept what I can’t change and work with the rest.”

“You’re selfless,” he insists.

I shake my head. “You are the giving one in this room. You’ve done so much for my family.”

“Tristan, I have more of everything—real estate, education, money, opportunity—than I could ever use in a lifetime. Giving costs me little… but you give of yourself to your family.” He releases me and pulls back just enough for our gazes to meet. His eyes are glassy, his expression earnest.

“How about tonight we give to each other? And leave everything and everyone else behind.”

Remi blinks away the wetness, grunts his approval, and reaches for the buttons of my jeans. His fingers shake as they work, as if he’s overwhelmed by what we’re about to do, where I’m as close as a person can be to a virgin without being one. In any case, a few seconds later, I’m standing in front of him stark naked, watching as he drags his wind pants and boxers down his legs.

“Bed… n-now,” he blurts, pulling back the covers. I climb in, and goosebumps spread over my skin. Again, he pulls me to his lean, warm body.

“This is nice,” I say.

“Nice? Tristan—th-this is amazing.” He clears his throat and adds in a lower tone, “A dream come true.”

“But these sheets are like ice.” I fake a shiver and smirk. Why am I trying to lighten the mood? “You’re gonna have to warm me up.”

“No need to ask twice.” My effort to ease the intensity is successful; there’s renewed confidence in his tone.

In a single swift movement, Remi tucks me beneath him. With his lanky frame pressing my body into the bed, I feel warmer and safer than I have in ages. Maybe ever. Instead of going for my lips, Remi uses his cheek to nudge my jaw to the perfect angle and dives into the hollow of my neck.

Something primal takes over both my head and my heart—I need proof I belong to him. And so, I utter something I’ve never even thought before. “I want you to… Remi, leave a mark on me.”

My appeal is shameless—completely unlike my usual manner—and I don’t care. I’m not even bothered that student artists will see my love bite… and draw it… and know I gave up all control, if only for a few moments. I want proof of our intimacy. Tangible proof I can feel… and can later see on my skin.

“Are you saying you want me to give you… w-well, a hickey?”

I blush and nod, and soon, the rough bristles of his beard move against my throat. Then all I’m aware of is suction. It thrills as much as it burns and makes me ache for the carnal bliss I’ve pushed aside for so long.

Remi’s lips drift south. My body knows what’s coming… and my nipples tingle with anticipation. They’re next to endure the merciless sucking. And though I don’t want him to release me from the torture, I squirm wildly at the all-consuming sensation.

He’s pleased, and his resulting purr is both sexy and stern. “Take what I give you, Tristan.” He sniffs or laughs or gasps; I’m not sure which is responsible for the breathy sound. But after he speaks, he relents and moves on.

Remi is generous with his tongue; my chest quickly grows damp with his rousing effort to lick me into submission. A submission I give, without a second thought because tonight, I’m his.

When he finally crouches between my thighs, he seems to be in his own world. “And now, for my prize…” It’s as if he’s speaking to himself until his lips curve into a hungry smile, and he directs his next statement to me. “I’ve seen your cock resting lazily against your leg as a room full of artists ponder its shape. All of us looking; none of us touching.” In one hand, he grasps my balls with little delicacy. “Tonight will be different.” The fierce tone morphs his words into a warning.

“Go on, then,” I urge, still craving concrete evidence of the passion I spark in him.

And he does, starting with a delicate dab at the top of my dick with the tip of his tongue, accompanied by a drawn-out hum. “You taste incredible. Better, even, than I expected.”

My dick stiffens further, which is hardly imaginable. He’s run out of time, though—my need is greater than his will to warn or tease or draw out the anticipation. “Please, Remi.”

Engulfing my cock in an eager gulp, he obliges so suddenly, I gasp. For what seems like an endless moment, his appetite to consume me—in a coarse repetition of rising and falling—refuses to wane. But when I start to thrust, he throws me off by changing course. Remi pulls his mouth from me and drags his tongue lightly along the sides of my length. Up and down—with a deliberate lack of urgency—and again and again. A new kind of blissful torture.

“Need to be in your mouth,” I utter, shocked that I can still verbalize my desire… and astounded that I’m willing to. “All of me, all the way in.”

He lifts his head. “Look at me, Tristan.”

My stare is blurry with passion and need, but I manage to focus on his golden gaze.

“Trust that I know what you need.” Remi’s gravelly voice is the essence of determination. He kisses the tip of my dick—a tiny, irresistible butterfly kiss that makes me burn—before swallowing me whole. And again, he rises and falls on my flesh.

This is too much. “I’m never gonna last… if you keep… doing that.” My confession is stuttered, as I have no desire for him to stop.

Once again, he pulls off to breathe his reply. “All I want is for you to let go. I want to see you writhe and feel you shudder… and know you’re losing control.”

Remi returns his full attention to my dick. Seeing as he’s giving me every fragment of what I asked for, I return the favor. I leave my inhibition behind and thrust into his mouth, my movements fevered and desperate. Groaning and trembling, I lose myself in him. When I’m on the verge of coming, I twist my fingers into his hair to hold him in place, certain I’d come completely undone if he pulled away. As it turns out, it’s unnecessary—Remi is eager to drink down everything I have to give.

I sigh my pleasure and then ramble, “Shit, wow… that was epic.”

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