He shakes his head. “Not enough. Never enough.”
I rock into him, nearly giddy from the hot clench of his body. His chest is flushed, and even his nose is red, like a kid outside in the winter. And somehow, he doesn't make me feel old. Quite the opposite, he makes me feel young, full of possibilities, and able to smile more than I have all week. He looks at me reverently, brushing his thick fingers through my hair.
“I love how the silver and black look together. You’re one of the most beautiful men I've ever seen in my life.”
“I'm glad that my aging meets your approval,” I say, angling my hips up, loving the little grin and hitch in his breath.
“Keep doing that.”
I comply, and he flushes underneath me, his eyes happy little half-moons that complement his pleased grin. What a special man.
“I love your freckles,” I say, tickling my fingertips across his chest and down his arms. “Especially the ones on your cock.”
“Yeah, those are from an ill-advised trip to Hippie Hollow,” he says, referring to the local clothing-optional cove off Lake Travis.
“Tell you what, if we ever go to Hippie Hollow together, I call dibs on making sure you've got enough sunscreen…everywhere.”
He laughs, and the sensation on my dick is perfecto. “Híjole, I should make you laugh during sex more often.”
“If you’re willing to come back for more, I'm willing to give it.”
I look into his eyes and can’t escape their honesty. I don’t think I’ve ever had a sweeter time with a lover. I speed up my hips, rocking into him with a little more oomph, turned on by the undulations of his belly and chest.
He inhales sharply, his happy expression exchanged for a more serious, passionate one. “Fuck.Yes.Joaquin, keep hitting that spot. God, keep doing what you’re doing. Right there. Rightthere,” he says, thrusting his hips up to meet my rhythm.
I spit on his pale cock and stroke it, keeping in rhythm with the lazy, insistent thrust of my hips.
“I’m coming,” he grits out, just as the first bit of cum shoots from his cock. He arches up, his strong body taking me with him on a roller coaster ride. His upward thrusts are powerful, forcing me deeper as I milk him until his belly and chest are covered in cum.
The sight of his release and the cherubic wonder on his face drop me off the edge of a cliff, and it’s as if all these cozy, sexy feelings in my body have coalesced and magnified, concentrating low in my core. His hips become even more insistent, and the orgasm hits me like a slow-moving symphony. Inevitable, devastating. I come inside him and nearly weep from the power of it.
Colts squirms against the ridiculous sheets in pleasure, breathless, unaware that he’s shaken my universe apart. We continue to thrust for a few extra moments, savoring our connection, his every emotion right there on his beautifully unguarded face.
Finally, when it's time to separate, he grabs his T-shirt from the floor, mopping up his chest. We roll over and face each other, kissing, completely uninterested in the world spinning around us.
And for the first time in a long time, this aching Wick-labeled need inside of me settles down. Colt’s attention feels so natural and right, not at all a substitution. I decide to tell him so.
“You are perhaps the most sensual man I've ever been with,” I confess as I rub his belly and tease his nipples.
He jerks at the delicate touch and laughs, caught between fleeing the overstimulation and wanting to draw near. “It’s your fault. I’m just following your lead,” he says as I run my fingers through his dark ginger beard. His eyes drop to my chest. “I like doing this with you, even if we’ve both foolishly fallen in love with Wick.”
I inhale, the hazy, fuzzy delightful mess of our time suddenly sharper. “I…”
Colt stops me with a kiss. “I'm not trying to call you out or overstep. I just recognize the signs in both of us. You can tell me I'm wrong.”
This pureness, this honesty…Dios mio.
My heart is overwhelmed by it.
And if I’m being honest with myself, I know deep in my soul that he’s everything Warwick has ever needed. If Warwick were to choose him, I don’t think I could find enough jealousy to mount a protest.
“No, you're not wrong. I am in love with him, and it is foolish.” I kiss his forehead, nose, and chin. Letting out a breath I’ve been holding in my lungs forever, I admit, “It’s a relief to finally say the words out loud.”
“I’ve never said it before either. But I figured I could trust you and that I wasn’t alone with a scary truth.”
“You’re definitely not alone, though…I’ve never bedded my romantic rival before.” I chuckle, my hands still roaming his body.
He laughs with me, then stills, running his finger along the outline of my hip. “I don’t wanna be your rival. I don’t want it to be some sort of competition with a winner and a loser.”
