“You don’t think you can trust me?”
He shakes his head quickly. “No, I don’t mean it like that. It’s just… when you’re love-bombed and affection is used as a weapon and mistakes are punished with fists, it fucks up your view of safety. You’re safe. You always have been. But sometimes my mind tries to convince me that you’re not.”
I wrap an arm around his waist and haul him back to me because, kissing or not, this is where he belongs. His head settles on my shoulder, and he runs a finger absently over my rib cage. “I want you,” he whispers. “Not because you’re some knight in shining armor, though you definitely are that. I justdo.Because being with you makes me feel good, and I haven’t felt good in a very long time.”
His words damn near steal my breath. “I want you to feel good.”
He sits up, eyes locking on mine. “Then kiss me.”
My heart stutters at the look in his eyes. The complete trust. The certainty.
God, I want to so bad.
“Please, Austin.”
Every single atom in my body is reaching out to him. Begging me. Begging me to close the gap, to taste his mouth, to connect with him. “I want to,” I whisper. “You have no idea how much.”
“So then do it.” He leans closer, so close that his breath fansacross my lips. “Don’t make me be the one to close this distance, Austin. Don’t let me be the only one chasing.”
Fuck.
I lean forward, and like we never even parted, seal my mouth over his. He’s so warm and pliant, his body sagging into mine. His lips part, fingers dancing over my chest and up my throat to my hair, tangling in the strands.
The first soft whimper against my lips nearly does me in, and I bury my fingers in his hair, tilting his head so I can deepen the kiss. It feels like I can’t get enough of him. Like this will never be enough. Like I’ll never have my fill.
Luca breaks the kiss with a gasp, and I’m resigning myself to it being over when his head falls back and he bares his throat to me. There’s something so vulnerable about that, so achingly trusting, that I lose myself a little, my restraint slipping. “Fuck,” I whisper, though it sounds more like a prayer than a curse, and I cradle the side of his head and press my lips to the hollow of his throat.
He groans, arching toward me, so I slowly drag my tongue up his Adam’s apple. The way his fingers are twisting in my hair and the way he’s panting are such a turn-on, but it’s not even about that. I just want him close to me. “Just kissing, Luca,” I murmur into his skin. “Nothing more than that; not yet, okay?”
“Okay,” he moans, pressing closer to me.
It’s embarrassing how quickly I gave in. But I can’t deny that having Luca’s pulse fluttering against my lips and his fingertips digging into my hair isn’t perfection. “You taste good,” I whisper, dragging my tongue over a tendon in his neck and collecting the salt on his skin.
The only answer I get is a breathless noise and more of Luca’s weight pressing into me.
I guide him back down, covering his mouth with my own again. The second our lips connect, he whimpers, his body shuddering. I can’t quite remember if he made noises like this when we were younger, but it’s goddamn intoxicating. I’m drunk on it. On him. His skin beneath my fingers, his breath mingling with mine.
“God,” he whispers, trembling against me. “More.”
I cup his jaw, forcing his chin down with my thumb, and deepen our kiss, sliding my tongue past his parted lips to take what he’s offering.
I’ve never had a kiss this good in my entire life, and I know it’s because it’shim.Because it’sus.
Another soft whimper spills from his mouth and into mine. I swallow it down, dragging my tongue over his and caressing his jaw. I need air, but I can’t even be bothered to try to get it. Not when he himself feels like oxygen, more vital to my survival than anything else.
I’m aching, my cock hard and pulsing. I know Luca is too. I can feel him pressed against my stomach, but I don’t even care about that. There’s no race to the finish line. There’s no hurrying to undress or move on to the next thing. Thisisthe thing. Holding him and tasting his sweet tongue and feeling his body in my armsisthe finish line.
Finally, Luca breaks away, drawing in a gasping breath. His pupils are blown wide, cheeks flushed, and lips swollen and wet.
“God, you are fucking gorgeous,” I say, not even attempting to shut the words down, and his cheeks flush deeper.
“Really?”
He can’t be serious. But all it takes is a single glance into those wide gray eyes of his to tell that he’s very serious. He doesn’t believe me. Or he doesn’t trust in my words, rather.
Chapter 21
Luca
