I sink one finger into him and he whines, pushing back down. He tips his head back again, exposing his throat and chest, so I take the offered invitation and bite my way down to his collarbone before I let my lips drift lower, teasing one nipple, then the other.
By the time I have tasted my fill, Grant is trying to bounce on my finger, though it cannot be enough for him. It is as though I feel that same desperation, that need to be full, as well as the aching urge to push inside him and have him fall apart on my cock.
“Behave,” I murmur, and when he whimpers, I reward him with another finger. He writhes against me, face flushed, eyes glassy with lust, and so I only tease him for a few minutes before I tug my fingers free and line my cock up with his hole.
I grab his hips before he can impale himself upon me and he growls, fangs tugging at his lower lip. Perhaps I should beannoyed at the show of defiance, but all I feel is amusement and some great affection gnawing at my chest. “One more moment,” I murmur and lean in to flick my tongue over the edge of one of his fangs. Grant gasps. “Be patient for me.”
“I can’t,” he whines, but he holds still—or as still as he can, thighs trembling as they are. I slick my cock and at the first press against his hole, Grant tightens his grip on my hair, staring into my eyes.
This is it. There is no going back from this. There has, in fact, been no going back since he was pushed out into the sun, since he came back and kissed me, since he said—
“I love you,” I say, and then I push inside.
I think Grant wants to say it back, but all he manages is a strangled groan as I fill him with all of me. It is not just our bodies joining. The bond between us sings with our union, feedback of feeling that echoes between us, and I moan when Grant pulls my hair, and he moans when I move my hips and—
I fuck him hard up against the tile. Grant crosses his ankles at my lower back, keeping me close, and we share each breath, each desperate kiss, each moan. I have never known love like this. All of it, all of him. I will never want for anything else so long as he is by my side, and the bond tells me that he feels it, he knows it, that he will not ever let me go.
He comes first, when I wrap my hand around his cock. He stares at me for a moment as though he does not believe I am touching him, not there, and then with a few brisk strokes, he comes undone. He appears as glorious as the first time, and the echo of his pleasure, the way he presses all of himself against me, has me spilling too, buried so deep inside him like that is where I want to live from now on.
Grant presses his forehead to mine. We breathe the same air, his hands still all wrapped up in the strands of my hair, the water beginning to cool. I do not pull out, not at first, and he doesnot ask me to. He runs his hands all over me instead, almost worshipful, and I find myself quivering at each touch, wondering how I can ask for more.
Eventually, we untangle ourselves from one another and clean each other off, though by the time we are drying ourselves, Grant is hard again, and he only laughs when I back him onto the bed and fall to my knees. His skin under my lips is a revelation, and when I suck him deep, he pulls my hair, making me groan and rock my hips. He is a welcome, heavy weight on my tongue and I swallow every drop when he comes.
He drags me up onto the bed afterwards and kisses his way down my body. I spread my thighs when he settles between them, watching the way his long fingers wrap around the base of my cock and his tongue darts out to taste.
I shake with the urge to touch him, direct him, but his sly gaze tells me he more than knows what he is doing. I push my hand through his hair instead, wet strands soft against my fingers.
Grant winks and swallows me down to the base.
I cry out, back arching, because his eyes do not even water at the move. He watches me placidly before he starts to bob his head up and down. He strokes my thighs, tugs gently on my balls, but the entire time he sucks and his tongue teases and despite the fact that we have both just come, I know that I will soon do so again.
Grant allows no capitulation on this front. He does not let up as my thighs begin to tremble, as I lose the fight to keep my hips still. He sucks and sucks and when I come, he swallows every last drop and finishes me off with a long, leisurely lick.
“You are a marvel,” I whisper, and he ducks his head, overcome by shyness, if just for a moment. He crawls up the bed and drops next to me, then stares up at me for a moment before he throws one leg over my thigh and rests his head on my chest.
“Can you sleep like this?” he asks. Exhaustion is already creeping into his voice. His fingers move over my ribs, down to the unmarked skin beneath. I believe he will have a fascination with that spot for some time.
“Yes,” I reply. No matter if not. We will go home tomorrow night.
“Good.”
I pull the duvet over us just before Grant falls asleep, then watch him contentedly for half an hour or so. I cannot quite see his face at this angle, but I feel the way he breathes and how he has relaxed against me.
I can have this every night. My eyes sting, and I blink quickly and reach for my phone without thinking about it.
It should not surprise me that Jeremiah picks up immediately.
“Vlad. Maurice is with you, isn’t he?”
“I believe so.”
“You’re not there?”
I rest my head against the headboard and tighten the arm I have around Grant’s shoulders. “No. I was—I am fine, but I was injured. Asher had me return to the hotel.”
“And you went,” Jeremiah says with a laugh. “I suppose congratulations are in order.”
“Why?”
