“I want to kiss you more,” I told him, tucking my chin toward my chest to hide the embarrassment that flared up my face.
“I would like that.” His hand crawled up my back, the pressure in the tips of his fingers encouraging me down toward his mouth.
“But I feel like if I don’t come, my bones are going to grind to dust, or my cock is going to explode, or something traumatic. I don’t want to traumatize you.” I fell forward, bracing myself by his head and pressing our foreheads together. Colin let out a breath, the soft tang of hops still fresh on his exhale.
“How about we do that together?” he asked. “Kiss me and touch yourself.”
“What about you?”
“Me too.”
“Holy crap, is this really happening?”
Colin smiled and reached between us, working open his belt and fly with one hand, the other still solid against my hip. I made quick work of my own zipper, letting out a strangled cry once I got my cock into my hand.
“Come here,” Colin pleaded, tilting his chin back and searching out my mouth.
I liked being on top of him. Liked the way it felt to cover his body with mine and drive the speed of our kiss, which quickly turned messy and careless. Spit slicked across my mouth from his lips, down my chin. Colin kissed me with abandon, his breath punctuated by short grunts as his hand worked up and down the length of his cock.
I wanted to see his dick, wanted to show him mine, but I couldn’t get enough of the taste of him, the feel of him. I pulled away enough to catch my breath and dove back down, dragging kisses across the scruff of his jaw and over his ear. His beard felt as good as I’d imagined it would, rough and possessive, even though I didn’t understand how that could be a thing.
“Wesley,” his voice was strangled, body tense. “I’m close.”
“Okay. Right.” I licked down his neck, rutting against him while I fucked my fist. “What sounds do you make when you come, Colin?”
A breath later, he stilled, back bowing off the bed as he whispered my name into the space between us. Hot jets of cum splattered against my fist and I grunted, bracing myself with a better grip.
“Wesley,” he said my name again, rubbing his nose against my ear. “Kiss me.”
I crashed our mouths together as my orgasm swept me away. Coming with Colin’s tongue in my mouth and his cum on my hand was better than any self-made orgasm I’d ever had before. My cum burned like fire, pouring onto his bare stomach and sticking in the webbing of my fingers. I jerked my dick until I’d wrung the last drops of cum out, then collapsed beside him on the bed, soft and sticky shaft still in hand.
“You good?” he asked, rolling his head to the side to face me.
“Better than.”
Beside me, Colin sighed softly and closed his eyes.
“It’s late,” I murmured. “Really far past your bedtime, I think.”
He opened one eye, brow arched, even as sleep lines webbed out from his kiss-swollen lips.
“You should just stay,” I whispered.
His mouth quirked into a small smile and he wrapped an arm around me, pulling me toward him. We were both sticky and half-dressed, but I fell asleep in his arms all the same.
Never happier.
CHAPTERTWELVE
Colin
There wasno sneaking out of the apartment.
Grayson was already in the kitchen with a moka pot on the stove and his tired eyes trained toward Wesley’s hallway. He glanced down, pouring a little of the dark brew into a white mug that he whipped furiously, turning his attention back to me.
I was well aware of the dried cum on my black pants, the wrinkles, the messiness of my hair. The whole picture must have looked more like someone his or Wesley’s age and not my own.
“Well.” Grayson set the pot back on the stove. “Good morning.”
