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He moaned into my ear. "Can I fuck you?"
"Yes," I breathed, the single word almost lost in the rush of my pulse pounding in my ears. Heat pooled low in my belly as he withdrew his hand to fumble with the top drawer of the side table–a move we'd done countless times but never lost its desperate urgency.
"Fucking you is one of my favorite things in the world," he said. "Who knew men could be so...soft."
I laughed. He didn't have a lot of experience with men, but he was a quick study, and an incredible lover. Plus, we liked to put on a show. Justice liked to watch us.
He lifted himself just long enough to strip us both of our remaining clothing, our bare bodies now in full contact. The sensation was overwhelming—the feel of his skin against mine, the heat radiating off him, the raw need in his eyes…I was drowning in him. His fingers ventured between my legs, slicking up with lubricant before teasing my entrance. I bucked under him, my heart pounding in my chest as he stretched me open.
Skylar was never one for patience, but when it came to this–to us–he took his time. His eyes never left mine as he slowly pushed inside, his breath hitching at the tight heat. "Zane…" He breathed out, running his hands down my chest to intertwine our fingers together.
"Move…please..." I begged, tugging at our locked hands to urge him on. He stilled for a moment more before finally pulling back and thrusting in. The sensation of him, the rhythm of our bodies moving in unison, was intoxicating. His face was close to mine, lips brushing over my sweaty skin, whispering words of love and need that only heightened the pleasure. "I need your dick inside of me."
"Ah, well, I live to serve." He removed his fingers and pushed into me, hitting a spot that had my eyes rolling back. "You good?"
"Yeah...so good," I gasped out, my nails digging into his shoulders as he began to move.
The world narrowed down to Skylar and the sensation of him moving within me. The rhythm became our heartbeat, quick and urgent. Everything was heat and friction, our bodies slick with sweat. Our heavy breaths filled the room, punctuated by sharp gasps and low moans as he hit that sweet spot inside me over and over again.
I reached down between us, wrapping my hand around my own hard length and stroking in time with his movements.
"Jesus, you're so fucking tight," he said, his voice strained.
He angled his hips, grinding harder, deeper. I gasped, a strangled sound as the pleasure coiled tight in my gut. He was relentless, his body a solid weight pressing me into the cushions of the couch, pinning me to him.
"Skylar," I murmured, lost in the sensations threatening to consume me. "God...don't stop..."
His eyes were locked on mine, the intense gaze almost too much to bear. He grunted something unintelligible and stiffened above me. His rhythm faltered for a moment before picking up again, this time faster, more desperate. I could feel him unraveling; he was close.
His mouth descended on mine once more in a frenzied kiss that tasted of sweat and desperation. His tongue darted inside my mouth, mapping its contours as if he were trying to memorize each taste, each sensation before it slipped away.
The world tilted as my own release tore through me: a white-hot surge pleasure that made my muscles clench and my body arch beneath him. My hand tightened around myself, strokes becoming erratic as the waves of ecstasy tore through me.
"I've got you, love," he breathed out, voice roughened by the same edge I'd just toppled over from. His thrusts became even more staggered, until he was pushing deep and stilling, a low moan reverberating through his chest as he found his own release. He collapsed on top of me, his body heavy but comforting.
We lay there spent for what felt like hours, our ragged breaths gradually evening out. I played idly with his hair, sweat-soaked golden strands sticking to my fingers. He nuzzled into my neck. "Thank you," he murmured.
I laughed. "You were the one doing the fucking," I said. "You have never let me do that."
He laughed too. "Maybe one day I'll be ready for bottoming," he said. "Not today."
"I won't hold my breath.”
"But you know," he continued, raising his head to look at me with a serious expression, "you've got your own way of fucking me up. In here." He brought my hand to his chest, pressing it over his heart.
My smile faded a bit at that. The moment felt heavier than the lighthearted banter we'd been sharing just seconds before.
"That was oddly heartfelt for you," I said.
"Yeah, that's the sex," he replied. "Don't expect it to happen again."
I shook my head. I definitely expected it to happen again. It wasn't that Skylar was ashamed of me or ashamed of being with a man, that wasn't it. And when I had told him it might be intense, he had happily made it public. He didn't care about any of that. But being emotional in a way that actually got to the core of him...I could tell that was scarier.
But that was fine. I didn't expect him to change overnight. It had taken me years to get comfortable being emotional, and I had the benefit of supportive sisters to help me through it. Skylar...well, his childhood hadn't been so generous. Until he had been with the Knives, he hadn't really had a family. His grandparents tried, but the scars of his mother's neglect ran too deep.
"I mean it," he said, drawing my attention back to him. "I think things have been…better. Like in my head.”
"That's all you, Sky," I replied lightly, tracing a finger down his cheek. "You're the one who decided to change. I just...helped."
