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He’s got both hands cupped around my face, holding me in place. When I nip lightly at his bottom lip he gasps; I try to pull back again, but his grip is firm and I can only get enough space between our mouths to breathe.
“Is this okay?” I pant.
“Yes. God, yes.” His chest is heaving, and I pause to give us both a second to catch our breath. He strokes his thumbs over my cheekbones.
With only millimeters separating our mouths, it takes little more than a thought to kiss him again. This time it’s me that deepens the contact, pressing his head back against the mattress. He pulls one hand away from my face, sliding it down my side and snaking his fingers around until he’s cupping my ribcage; I let out a shocked gasp when he uses the grip to yank me down onto his chest.
I’m almost fully lying on top of him now, and there is no way he can’t feel how hard I am. A warning bell starts to sound in the back of my mind, cautioning that this might be a good time to abort. His back bows slightly beneath me, and I feel his own erection through the soft fabric of his pants.Fuck. His fingers are splayed across my ribs, and when his hand slides down to my hip and he uses it to pull our groins together, I nearly black out.
This time it’s Corwin who breaks the kiss and an immediate spike of fear flows through my veins.Too much, it was too much, get off of him. Before I can push back, however, he’s leaning forward and pressing his mouth to the underside of my jaw, tilting my head up with his nose. He places a line of careful kisses down the column of my throat, and I close my eyes, focusing on the warmth of his lips and trying to ignore the urge to rock my hips against his.
“You taste good.” He murmurs into the hollow of my collarbone, and I let out a breathy laugh, dropping my head down onto his shoulder. I can feel his breath on my skin as he continues to gently kiss everywhere he can reach. It feels like being worshipped.
His hand is still on my hip, five searing points of contact I can feel in my bones even though he’s touching me through the barrier of my underwear. The fabric of his shirt is soft against my forehead, and I want to tear it off of him. When I lift my head, he drops his own back to the bed and gazes up at me.Shit,I think as my heart stutters.
“Would it be okay if we didn’t stop quite yet?” He asks politely, like the massive boner I’m sporting isn’t invitation enough.
“Yeah,” I lean down for a quick peck and he chases my mouth as I pull away, “I think that would be alright.”
There’s a hitch in his breathing as I balance my weight on one arm and use my free hand to trace one long line down his torso.Fuck this damn shirt. I kiss him again, slow, sweeping my tongue into his mouth like I’m trying to taste every inch. The scratch of his stubble against my face sends my pulse skyrocketing, and I helplessly rock against him, groaning. I want to feel it against my thighs.
“Can I pull this up?” I whisper, plucking at the hem of his shirt.
He nods, but I see his throat bob as he swallows. Temporary confidence notwithstanding, he’s still nervous, and I mean to be careful with him. I slide my hand under the shirt, flattening my palm against his abdomen, and take a moment just to enjoy the way it feels. He groans softly when I stretch my fingers apart and brush my thumb over his bellybutton.
Leaning down, I kiss his chest over the top of his shirt. “Tell me if you need me to stop, okay?”
“Okay.” He’s breathless, and it’s a heady, erotic sound, listening to him pant while I slide my hand up the center of his torso, shirt folding up along my forearm.
Watching his face for signs of discomfort, I content myself with touching for now, fingers tracing the grooves of his abs. One of his hands is wrapped loosely around the forearm I have planted against the mattress and the other is flat on the bed, sheets clenched between his fingers. I don’t move any further, wondering about that hand. Flicking my gaze back up to his, I see he’s already watching me, azure eyes steady on mine with no obvious signs of distress. I hope he feels safe, and isn’t just putting on an act.
Fanning my fingers against his stomach, I glide my palm over until I can tuck my hand into the soft pocket of skin above his hip bone. When I lean down and press an open-mouthed kiss just below his bellybutton, he arches his hips off the bed and groans. I don’t dare move my mouth lower to where his erection is straining against the soft fabric of his pants, knowing we aren’t there yet.
Lazily, I coast my lips over the delicate skin of his stomach, listening close to the catches in his breathing. When I find a particularly sensitive spot I linger and Corwin moans my name. I have to stop, then, before I do something embarrassing like come in my boxers, without even touching my dick.
His face is flushed, and he’s biting his lip like he’s embarrassed by the noise that just came out of his mouth. When I lean down to kiss him, he immediately threads his fingers into my hair. Clearing my throat, I stretch back out on the bed next to him and reach over to pull his shirt back down, gently. His eyelids have fluttered closed; resting my hand flat on his stomach, I just let him breathe. I’m ridiculously nervous, eyes never leaving his face. For some reason, I worry he might now ask me to leave, and I desperately want to stay.
“Nigel?” He says, softly.
“Yeah?” My throat feels like sandpaper, and I wish I could grab the water glass on the bedside table without removing my hand from him.
“You’re still planning to stay, right?”
I breathe a sigh of relief. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m going to stay.” He’s moved his hand off the bed so that it’s laying on top of mine, rising and falling with the movement of his abdomen. “You okay?”
I don’t want to insult him by asking, but I feel like I need to hear him say the words out loud. He’s pretty closed off, and the thought of him feeling scared or anxious but hiding it has got me stressed out. He opens up his eyes, looking over at me and smiling loosely.
“I’m good.” Clearing his throat, he wiggles his hips a little bit, as though adjusting himself to a more comfortable position. “I uh…I was trying to keep up with you. You arereallygood at sex stuff.”
I snort a laugh—sex stuff—and to my surprise he joins in. “Well, we’re just getting started, you and I. And you were keeping up fine.”
“Mm, I think I need more practice though.” He says this so seriously, only someone who knew him well would see the humor underlying the words. “Ten thousand hours until mastery, and all that.”
I grin down at him, head propped up on my hand so I can see his full face. I’ve never had a relationship like this: one where sex is off the table and not one of the first things you check off the list. It’s also the only relationship that I’ve ever felt this level of attachment to; if Corwin told me he wanted nothing more than a lifetime of make-out sessions like this one, I wouldn’t hesitate to say yes. Anything to keep him.
“I like this.” Goosebumps break out over my skin as Corwin drags a knuckle lightly down my happy trail. My waistband stops him from going any further, but my body responds like it would have had he slid his hand inside. He’s watching my reaction, small smile teasing his lips.
“You’re a little shit.” I mutter, and the smile grows wider.
