“Yes.” Jag curled his hands around Michael’s shoulders and kissed him slowly.
His heart was hammering in his chest. His body ached to feel Michael inside him. He warmed himself up by brushing himself over the head of Michael’s hard cock, simultaneously teasing his lover. Michael moaned beneath him, thumbs gently moving back and forth over Jag’s hips. They kept kissing as he ran his fingers through Michael’s golden hair, over his shoulders, and down his chest, feeling the ripple and movement of the larger man’s strong muscles. He curved forwards so their chests were pressed together for a few seconds before arching away again. Everywhere their bodies touched, he left shimmering smears of body paint on Michael’s skin.
When he was relaxed and so turned on he could barely stand it, he inhaled deeply. He released the breath as he slowly lowered himself onto Michael’s cock. They moaned in unison, Michael’s grip tightening on his hips, his fingers digging in. Jag winced not from the firm press of Michael’s fingers but from the feeling of his dick inside him. Unmoving, he kissed Michael again, allowing his body to adjust to the unfamiliar sensation.
“You good?” Michael whispered as their lips parted.
Jag nodded. His throat felt tight, so he didn’t dare speak. He started to move his hips, using the music as a metronome, riding Michael to its slow, sultry beat. His thrusts were shallow to start with, but it didn’t take long for his body to demand more from him. He took Michael deeper, coming down harder and harder. Pleasure and pain pulsed through him, deliriously inseparable. He cupped Michael’s face in his hands, kissing him as often and for as long as he could. Michael’s hands moved from his hips, gliding over his thighs and knees and back up to caress his balls and cock. He gasped and shivered, tearing his hands away from Michael’s face so he could lean back onto the man’s knees, his back arched, taking Michael so deep he felt he might be torn apart. One of Michael’s hands stroked his throat, wrapping around to the back of his neck, briefly pulling him forwards into another kiss before releasing him, allowing him to lean back again.
“Let me,” Michael whispered.
Jag’s breath caught in his throat, but then he nodded, stilling his body. Michael began to thrust up into him, slow and shallow at first. But as Jag let out throaty moans of delight, Michael thrust harder and deeper. It was just as he’d imagined: Michael taking cues from him, giving him what he wanted and needed and nothing more. He kept stroking and gently squeezing Jag’s cock. Soon they were moving together, Jag bearing down as Michael thrust up.
“Look at me,” Michael rasped.
Jag forced his eyes open and lowered his head a fraction so he could stare into Michael’s blue eyes. They were large and bright. Michael’s face and chest were beaded with sweat and glistening with silver streaks. Jag was so overwhelmed with emotion that tears welled up in his eyes. As his orgasm hit him, he scrunched his eyes tight and forced a cry out of his parched throat. Seconds later, he felt Michael’s orgasm in the tension in the man’s muscles and the shaky, shallow thrusts of his hips. They stared at one another, their chests heaving as they fought to regain their breath. Jag tipped forwards, overwhelmed, and rested his head on Michael’s shoulder. He shivered as Michael’s hands ran through his hair, over his shoulders, and down his back. There were so many emotions churning within him that it was impossible to sort them all out and name them, but he felt happiness and contentment. He felt truly at peace for the first time in what felt like forever.
He lifted his head, gently kissed Michael’s cheek, and whispered, “I love you.”
19Jag
The words stunned Jag. It felt as if his mind was several seconds behind his mouth and was only just catching up. Michael was smiling at him happily, grinning almost, his blue eyes soft. He’d heard the words and believed them. Jag blinked. Tension slipped into his body, an unwelcome but familiar friend. He pulled himself off Michael and stood, turning his back, hugging himself, unsure what to think or feel. Michael was behind him in an instant, strong arms wrapping around him to hold him tightly.
“Hey, it’s okay,” Michael whispered, kissing his neck. “Things slip out during and after sex. I won’t take what you said seriously.” He brushed his lips over Jag’s ear. “Unless you want me to.”
Jag sucked in a breath.
“You’re shivering,” Michael said. “Let me get you a blanket. Wait here.”
Jag didn’t move. Michael returned quickly with one of the blankets he kept stashed under the stage and wrapped it around Jag’s shoulders. Jag was dimly aware of him dealing with the condom and cleaning himself up, whilst all he could do was stand and tremble. Michael returned to him and guided him back to the chair. They sat, Jag practically curled up on Michael’s lap like a cat. He tipped his head against Michael’s chest, closing his eyes as the older man softly stroked his hair.
“Are you okay?” Michael asked after several moments had passed.
Jag nodded slowly. “I think I meant it.”
Michael rested his chin on the top of Jag’s head. His fingers trailed back and forth over Jag’s shoulder.
It was a scary thought, Jag decided, unsure if he even knew what being in love felt like. He knew he’d never felt likethisbefore; rule number four had never let him. He’d chosen to break that rule and allow himself to become emotionally attached to Michael, to care about him. But he’d never intended on breaking it this spectacularly. He hadn’t realised he was capable of falling so hard for Michael, so fast.
He thought about what Michael had said: that words could slip out during and after sex. Had he only told Michael he loved him because he’d been caught up in post-orgasmic bliss?
Or maybe it was because Michael had made love to him in the most tender way possible. Ian had never fucked him like that. Shit, he was guilty of that sort of sex himself, only thinking of himself, only caring about his own orgasm. He hadn’t behaved like that with Michael for a while.BecauseI love him.
He was thrown by Michael’s silence, not able to decide if it was because his lover was giving him the space to think or because he didn’t feel the same way. The second thought stabbed at his heart, forcing out a gasp.
“Jag?” Michael asked softly.
He lifted his head and touched his fingertips to Michael’s jaw, staring deeply into the older man’s eyes. “I shouldn’t love you, but I think I do. And I know it’s crazy and way too soon and unexpected and stupid because…because…” Because he’d have to leave very soon. He was already in danger of staying in one place for too long.
Michael pulled him into a scorching kiss, his lips and tongue hot and needy against Jag’s. Before he knew it, Jag was straddling Michael again, hands tangled into the man’s golden hair. Their sweaty, silver-stained chests slipped against one another as Jag ground against him.
He realised he didn’t need Michael to say the words back. He didn’t even need Michael to feel the same way. What Michael had already given him was more than enough. He couldn’t ask for any more. Michael had shown him that he could let his barriers down, that he could care for someone, that he could freely give himself to someone, that he could love someone. Despite the hurt he knew was coming and the very real possibility that he’d never surrender himself like that again, he knew he would treasure the gifts Michael had given him. Asking Michael to love him in return would be torture for them both.
He put his all into the kiss and the way he moved his body against Michael’s. God, he wanted this man so badly. Even though he was tired and shaky from his unexpected admission, he wanted him.
“Let’s go upstairs,” Michael said between kisses.
“We should shower first.”
