"Come on, Ezra,” he grunts against my throat. “Make me feel you again.”
I pump my hips forward and bury myself inside of him, and Declan holds me like his life depends on it. I know he wants me to go hard and fast, to pin his wrists and rut against him like a wild animal, but there’s apparently more than one thing I won’t give him tonight.
He breathes my name against my neck and I move inside of him, slow and steady. His channel grips and pulls the base of my cock when I settle inside of him, and I fight against his muscles, begging with my cock for his body to let me love him this way right now because it’s the only way I can. He relaxes underneath me, and a tremble tears through his entire body.
“I love you,” I rasp in his ear. His muscles clench and milk me of my orgasm. It’s like our lovemaking, slow and hard all at the same time. I empty into him with a silent growl, and Declan spreads his legs wider, allowing me to slide deeper into him.
After I’ve spent, I stay that way. On top of him, inside of him. He lets me cover his body with mine, and he strokes my hair with sticky fingers, pushing it out of my face and peppering my eyelids with kisses.
An eternity later, my cock slides out of him and I roll onto my back. He doesn’t move. He stays there, half dressed with a cum slick stomach and cum dribbling out of his asshole, and he takes my hand, raising it to his mouth and kissing my knuckles.
“We should get back home,” I remind him. The sky is still dark, but hints of purple are beginning to color the horizon.
“What if we didn’t?”
“What?” I push up onto my elbow and stare down at him. His eyes are closed and he doesn’t open them when I speak.
“What if we didn’t?” he repeats. “What if we just stayed here and…”
“And what, Declan? If we burned alive?”
He sits up and turns his back to me, shoving his legs into his pants and putting his sneakers back on. He stands up and brushes grass off of the backs of his legs and walks away from me without another word.
I tuck myself back into my pants and grab the blanket, chasing after him. He doesn’t stop when I catch up to him, and he ignores me when I call his name. I grab his arm and yank him to a stop. Pulling free, he shakes his head, forcing a fake smile.
“What does that mean, Declan? You’re not thinking about doing something like that, are you?”
“Of course not.” He pivots on his heel and resumes walking to the house again. I catch up to him a second time and we walk in silence until we get to the front door. He unlocks it and I follow him inside, dropping the blanket at the door.
Declan heads up the stairs and strips out of his clothes, tossing them onto the floor in front of the dresser in our room, then he crosses the room and yanks open the curtains. I have the same sun shield on the window here that we do on the downstairs door, and I worry for a fleeting moment he’s going to try and peel it off.
He doesn’t, though. He only stands in front of the window, bare-assed, with his soft and scarred cock on display, and he watches the sunrise in silence. The room doesn’t lighten because the sun doesn’t filter through the shield, but the color is there, reflected off his eyes.
I don’t want to set him off, because I’m not entirely sure he won’t run out of the house and throw himself off the porch, so I sit on the edge of my bed and watch him watch the sun. When he’s had enough, he heaves a heavy sigh and pads over to the bed, crawling under the covers and giving me his back.
I slide in beside him and reach between the split of his ass, pressing my fingers against my favorite part of him. “What’s wrong? Don’t you feel me here?”
He reaches behind him and grabs my hand, pulling it to his front. It’s the way we used to sleep before everything went to shit. Declan flattens my palm against his chest.
“I want to feel you here,” he says.
And I know it. I fucking know that’s what he wants.
I want to give him the world and he wants me to risk throwing mine away.
“I don’t trust myself to do it, Declan,” I plead for him to understand. “If I couldn’t make it work. If I did something wrong…I’d throw myself into a fucking wood chipper.”
“At least we’d be together again if you did.”
“We’d be dead,” I remind him.
He looks at me over his shoulder and rolls his eyes. “We’re dead now.”
“But we’re together now.”
He gives me a look, making it clear he disagrees with me.
“I didn’t want it to come to this,” he sighs and rolls onto his other side. We’re nose to nose and his eyes are all I can see.
