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We moan at the same time. My eyes roll back. He tastes and smells so incredibly likehim,and my cock is throbbing with need.
“Fuck,” I gasp, pulling off and starting on my buttons. I’m in such a hurry it takes me an impossibly long time, so while I work on that, Émile sits up and works off my pants. I kick them and my briefs away, grab the lube from his bedside table, and slick myself up.
“Lie back.”
Émile shuffles back onto his pillows and lets his legs fall open. I will never understand how someone can say the male body isn’t the sexiest sight. I mean, sure, I’m biased. And I’m gay as fuck and allosexual, and I’m here withÉmileso maybe my opinion is skewed, butdamn.
I want to consume him.
My underwear is closest so I use those to clean the lube off my hand, then crawl up over the top of him.
He looks up at me, all liquid hazel eyes and gentle mouth, and my heart does the familiar stutter is always gives me around him.
I lower myself until we’re pressed together and Émile wraps his arms around my neck. His lips find mine. Soft, slow, over and over. His breath smells like cherries from the drinks he had earlier, and I probably taste like Coca Cola and bourbon, but apparently he doesn’t hate it. His fingers reach for my hair, tighten, as I press into the kiss harder and taste every lingering flavor on his tongue.
Émile wraps his legs around my waist and brings our hips together. My dick slides against his, and he better have a round two in him because I don’t plan on this lasting long. I don’t wantit to. All I know is that I’m turned on and full of emotion, and something’s gotta give. Right now, my cock is insisting he’s it.
I roll my hips, bringing us together over and over. His velvety hard length feels incredible crushed against mine, and when I break the kiss, forehead pressed to his, hand stroking his cheek, I catch a glimpse of the ring on my finger. It’s the same one he gave me when he proposed, but this is the first time I’ve looked at it and known itmeanssomething. Something great and heady and invincible.
I untangle his left hand and hold it in mine, seeing the gold band against his soft skin almost makes me choke up.
Émile groans. Squeezes my hand, rolls his hips against mine. “Lord, that turns me on.”
“Me too.”
I catch his mouth again, hungrier this time. Our hands still entwined and crushed between our chests as we madly frot together, desperate for that finishing line. His tongue is demanding, and mine is just as needy. I chase every grunt, every pant, even hislord, save the king,which I’m certain he just says to fuck with me.
I’m rocketing closer to the edge, movements less skilled and refined, more franticly seeking friction. His precum is leaving a sticky mess between us, my balls drawing up, becoming oversensitive. And then Émile curls one hand around my nape, fingers biting into my skin as he throws his head back.
“Nrgh, Christian.” His cock jerks under mine, releasing, spilling over the both of us, and I work myself harder against him, trying to follow him through. His body still moves with mine, sweaty, warm, perfect, his steady hand at my nape doesn’t shift, only grips tighter.
“Come for me, love,” he rasps.
And one look into those beautiful eyes is enough to make it happen. The building pressure releases, and I keep grindingagainst him, milking out every last drop until that frenzied need slowly ebbs into nothingness.
I collapse against him. Émile’s tight grip loosens and his fingers work their way into my hair. I lie there, completely sated, letting him stroke me as I drift in and out of consciousness. I could easily fall asleep here, for days, and catch up on all the sleep I’ve lost ever since I met him.
“We have a lot to talk about,” he says.
“Yeah, I guess. But we don’t have to do it now, do we?”
He chuckles. “No, now is for recovery so that we can go again. I simply mean that tomorrow we’ll have time to get the money details squared away and then … we start making plans.”
“And your family can’t do a thing about it.”
His nod is hesitant and I can tell there’s something on his mind. “Is it wrong of me to hope?”
“Hope what?”
“That they learn from this?”
I’m so not the person to be asking that question. “Hey, if I can hold out hope for a decade that my parents aren’t as shitty as I remembered, I’m not exactly going to judge you, am I? In my case, my family were shitheads. The damage they’ve done is irreversible, and I’m glad I can finally see that and be okay with it. What your parents and gran did to me … that was pretty shitty. They could have ended it. I’ll never forgive them for that, but they have a chance to step up now. And even if I never forgive them or like them or whatever, I could learn to have a level of respect for them if they really do change.”
“Yeah, I think that’s what I’m hoping. I’ve never had a high opinion of them, but I’d like to believe that they’re not completely fucked up.”
I kiss him lightly. “All we can do is wait and see.”
“That’s true.
