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More importantly, Butch didn’t back off. He shuddered, and all of a sudden his hand was on Sol’s face as he filled Sol’s mouth with a low moan. “More,” he murmured against Sol’s lips.
Sol took another drink, and this time he snaked his tongue into Butch’s mouth, his ears filled with Butch’s harsh breaths as Sol sucked on his top lip, tugging it gently with his teeth. Another drink, only now Butch gave as good as he got.
Thank fuck for that.
“Don’t stop,” Butch whispered.
Sol drew back to look into his eyes. “Are we talking about sharing the Jack—or kissing?”
Butch swallowed hard. “Kissing.”
Sol set the bottle on the nightstand, knelt in the middle of the bed, and crooked his finger. “Come here.”
Butch moved forward, his breathing labored, until he knelt facing Sol, sitting back on his haunches. Sol cupped his face and took his lips in a slow intimate kiss, not closing his eyes but meeting Butch’s gaze as they kissed, drinking him in. He tempered the urge to claim that soft mouth with hungry passion, choosing instead to breathe deeply, slowing everything down. Butch kept his eyes open too, staring at Sol in a kind of dazed wonder.
Dazed was goddamn perfect.
Butch moaned into his kiss, his hands on Sol’s shoulders, his nape, his back. Sol pulled him closer until he could feel the heat of him, the tremors that rocked his body, his fingers digging into Sol’s arms. The flush on his face and neck said a lot, but Sol wasn’t prepared for the elation rocketing through him when he saw Butch’s slow smile that built until it reached his eyes, making them shine.
Holy fuck. Thereisa God after all.
Butch didn’t want to breathe for fear this wasn’t real. The feel of Sol’s lips against his was sublime, heady as fuck, and he didn’t want it to stop.
Then Sol broke the kiss, and the moment shattered—until Sol leaned in to kiss his neck, and holyfuck, he wasn’t prepared for the heat that raced through him,surgedthrough him, all the way to his dick. Sol sucked on the skin, and Butch couldn’t keep in his groan that filled the air. Sol kissed him again, moving to his nape, setting off rockets inside him. Butch bowed his head, allowing Sol better access. He didn’t know what to do with his hands except hold onto Sol to anchor himself to the bed.
“You taste good,” Sol murmured between kisses.
Butch would’ve let him do that all fucking night.
Then Sol moved forward, kissing his cheek, his nose, his forehead, until at last their lips met once more, and Butch didn’t hesitate. He opened for him, reaching out for him, his hand on Sol’s face, his head, trembling when Sol unfastened the buttons on his shirt, slipping it off his shoulders.
And then Sol eased him down onto the bed until he lay on his back. Sol’s fingers danced over his chest while they kissed, never breaking the connection, his hand slipping under Butch’s tee to stroke his belly, to tease the hair covering his chest, following his treasure trail down to the waistband of his jeans.
Butch’s breathing hitched as Sol gave his crotch a leisurely rub, his dick so hard it fuckingached. Sol paused, their gazes locked on each other.
“Do I stop?”
“Fuck no,” Butch groaned.
Then Sol kissed him again, sucking on his bottom lip, their tongues dancing, their noses rubbing, no urgency but that same slow movement that felt like gentle waves lapping the shore. And while they kissed, Sol rubbed his bulge, slow as you please, until Butch’s moans were constant.
Sol stretched out beside him, leaning over to plunder his mouth again and again while he unbuckled Butch’s belt.
Butch’s heart pounded.
Button unfastened.
Butch’s cock hardened.
Zipper lowered.
His breathing quickened.
Finally, Sol inched his hand inside, freeing Butch’s cock. It lay rigid on his stomach, pointing toward his face.
“Oh fuck.” He hardly recognized his own voice, strained with need, with urgent desire.
Sol’s face was right there, his eyes focused on Butch with an intensity that made him shiver. “Asking again—do I stop?”
