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“Oh, God! Fuck! Mathieu!” The orgasm slammed into him, taking him unawares, and he just kept calling Mathieu’s name as he came in the other man’s mouth.
28
Mathieu had been tryingand failing in all his previous attempts to not hope for this moment. To not pine for Win’s wrung-out body quivering under him, his familiar flavor soaking into Mathieu’s taste buds, his gums, and coating his tongue.
Like it did now.
His own body shook, hands trembling as he stroked Win’s thigh. Breathing was a struggle, but he did it, greedily taking all of Win into his nostrils.
There’d been a drought of Win in Mathieu’s system and now it felt as if he was covered, head to toe, in everything Win. Smothered in him. There was no happiness like this.
Win’s fingernails scraped Mathieu’s scalp as he pressed his heated cheek to Win’s left hip bone. It hadn’t been his orgasm, but he still felt wrung out. Depleted. His body ached, cock demanding relief, but he was in no hurry for that. He wanted it. Fuck, how he wanted it, but he wanted to see Win’s face. Wanted to taste his lips. Wanted to stare into his eyes while their breaths mingled.
“Mathieu.”
His name was just a breath riding the heaviness in the room. Win’s fingers moved from Mathieu’s head and skated down to his chin, lifting it. Mathieu shifted backward, just enough for their eyes to meet. Win stared back at him with dilated pupils, lips wearing teeth marks. Mathieu reached up, smoothing a thumb over Win’s bottom lip.
A million questions tumbled around in his brain, along with all the issues they still had to deal with, but he pushed them down for now. He owed Win this moment, his full attention, and he wanted Win’s in return.
“Come up here,” Win whispered.
And Mathieu went to him. Crawling up his body and settling beside him. They faced each other, Win throwing a leg over Mathieu’s and Mathieu sliding a hand down Win’s spine. It was oddly erotic with Mathieu remaining still fully clothed and Win being naked. As close as they were, he wanted Win in his arms, but Mathieu waited for the other man to make the move. Win would show him what he did and didn’t want and Mathieu would follow his lead.
As if hearing his thoughts, Win rolled in closer, fitting his body to Mathieu’s. “You’re not gonna take this off?” His breath washed over Mathieu’s lips as Win fingered a button on Mathieu’s shirt.
Lips curved, Mathieu asked, “You want me naked?”
“I do.”
All he had to do was ask. Mathieu rolled away from him just long enough to get to his feet and strip his clothes off. Naked, he rejoined Win on the bed, returning to their position.
Win touched him immediately, a hand on his shoulder, stroking down his arm and then his chest. Mathieu struggled to keep still, biting his lip, eyes drifting closed.
In the years since he and Win broke up, he’d done it all, with nameless, faceless people. Anything to drown out the guilt, to numb himself. Only one person ever came close to making him feel the way Win made him feel. Close, but not quite. Because he wasn’t Win.
“I thought about this,” Win whispered against his lips.
“Yeah?” Mathieu matched his tone, cupping his jaw. As hard as he was, as much as his body ached to sink into Win and fuck him until time lost meaning and the world around them fell away, he wanted this more. Missed this more: the times they spent in this bed, doing nothing but whispering to each other, bodies closer than close. So many things he’d fucked up, discarded as if they hadn’t been etched into every crevice of his heart.
Win’s touch on Mathieu’s body was lazy and reverent, as if he was learning Mathieu anew. Mathieu loved every bit of it. Loved it so much that he rolled onto his back, taking Win with him. The other man ended up on top, knees widening to straddle Mathieu’s hips.
Hands on Win’s ass, Mathieu gazed up at him through heavy-lidded eyes. “What else did you think about?”
Win’s tongue flicked out, dragging across his bottom lip, and Mathieu’s dick jerked at the invitation. Eyes twinkling, Win rocked on him, drawing a hiss from Mathieu. His grip on Win’s tight ass fumbled.
With a low chuckle, Win dipped his head, pressing a kiss to Mathieu’s throat. “I thought about kissing you again.” He nipped Mathieu, tongue immediately sliding over the skin to soothe the ache. Mathieu didn’t want to be soothed; he intended to feel everything tonight. It felt as if his body was coming out of hibernation. As if he was finally feeling again after being numb for so long.
“So kiss me again,” Mathieu begged, tipping his chin up, tugging on the back of the other man’s head.
“Yeah?” Win peered down at him, licking his lips again. Fuck. Mathieu wanted to bite him there, suck on it. Win inched closer and Mathieu held his breath, nails digging into Win’s ass, rocking him back and forth on his throbbing cock. “Kiss you?” Win asked when he was just a mere breath away from Mathieu’s lips.
He’d chosen this particular moment to tease? “Win.” Mathieu tipped forward, but Win pulled back at the last second with a low chuckle. “You want me to beg?” As if he didn’t already know what the answer would be.
“Yes, please.” Sliding a hand down their bodies, Win cupped Mathieu’s cock, the tip wet, pre-cum slicking them both. Lips against Mathieu’s, Win purred, “Beg for me, Mathieu.”
“Please kiss me, Win.” He’d never had a problem begging; it just had to be the right person. Win had always been theonlyright person. “Please put your lips on mine.” Win squeezed his dick and Matthieu bucked up into his grip, body shuddering. “I’ve missed your taste. Can I have it back? Give me your tongue and I’ll give you mine. Kiss me until my bones shake and there’s nothing left of me that you don’t own. That you haven’t consumed.” His words faltered at the end when Win’s thumb stroked his crown. Mathieu’s body pulled taut, limbs vibrating. “Please.”
Win gave him what he asked for. Soft lips on his. Parting. Tongue sliding between Mathieu’s and opening him wider while Win maintained a tight stroke on his dick. Their tongues met and Mathieu groaned, Win’s own sound of approval rumbling between them. Eyes closed, Mathieu floated, lost to everything but sensation. Win deepened the kiss, leading, forcing Mathieu to follow. But that was no hardship. There was no rush in the kiss nor the clasp of Win’s palm around Mathieu’s shaft. They worked in tandem, Win’s strokes—tongue and fist—unraveling Mathieu. Sending him spinning.
