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A tear tracks down my cheek, and I know he sees it because he follows it with his gaze, and then his thumb presses against it, wiping it away.
Oh, fuck, if this isn’t symbolic.
I could write poems about this.
“Em,” he whispers, and then his lips gently brush over mine, and I eagerly press into it. Consuming all the goodness he’ll allow me. I need it more than him anyway.Ineed it so badly.
He has too much; he can spare a little.
He gently bites down on my bottom lip, and I groan, feeling every inch of him.
Every detailed inch.
From the hair on his legs brushing against mine, to the way his nipples are pebbled against my chest, to the stubble on his face abrading mine as he presses up into me. My fingers curl onto his broad shoulders, and I feel how his muscles flex and bunch under my touch.
I’m fully hard now, my cock pressing into his pelvis, and I shift to get some friction because I need release. Goddammit, I need something.
No, I needhim.
Just him.
My hips arch and roll against his, and he’s growing hard from the friction of it all. Oh god, his cock is hard because ofme, and now his tongue is pushing into my mouth, sliding against mine. And then he makes the most delicious sound.
A short, low growl.
Oh, fuck, it’s orgasmic.
I could come just from the sounds he makes. They’re so rare that I gobble them up. A groan escapes me and echoes into his mouth. He swallows it down and grasps onto my ass, guiding me, moving me exactly how he wants. The air is cold around us, but it’s growing humid in here from our panting breaths, the windows fogging as he rocks up into me. Our cocks are dripping and sliding against each other as I’m brought closer and closer to the edge.
I’m breathless now, burning up from it all.
Oh fuck, there’s no more frostbite now.
I’m on fire, scorched from the inside out.
I’m surprised the snow hasn’t melted outside.
Thermal imaging satellites can’t miss us.
A low moan escapes my mouth, and then it grows until it’s all I can hear––just my groans filling the small space, echoing off the walls of this metal box. August’s hands tighten on me as he arches up almost violently.
“Listen to you,” he rasps, punching his hips up with each word. “Those. Fucking. Sounds. You’re so fucking hot.”
Oh hell, his words, his voice. I’m a goner.
“August,” I cry, and he throws his head back, the tendon in his neck bulging from his skin, and I bite down on it as I am knocked right over the edge.
I feel my come shooting out, spurting between our hot, writhing bodies. August shudders beneath me as he finds his own release.
“Fuck,” I groan as I collapse limply on top of him.
“Em,” August breathes, and I just grunt, unable to move. “You okay?”
“Hm.”
He threads his fingers through my hair and whispers, “I’ll take that as a yes.”
I sigh. I can’t form words.I’m incapable of it.
