“Don’t worry. She’s coming back,” I said confidently, pulling him back down beside me.
He looked at me, brows up. “How do you know?”
“Because she’s already addicted.”
“Addicted?”
“To us. To what we can give her together.” I traced patterns on his chest, watching his skin pebble at my touch. “She was so into everything that happened over the past two days. I’m guessing she’s just afraid of how intense it all was.”
“You sound pretty sure of yourself.”
“I am sure.” I leaned in to kiss his collarbone. “She’ll be back. Who could say no to us?”
He laughed at my cockiness, but even as I reassured Luke, a nagging doubt lingered in the back of my mind. We needed to find out what Miokowas so scared of, and we needed to do it before she had a chance to pack up her van and race off to the next craft fair.
I pushed the thought away. She was here until after Christmas. We had at least two weeks to sort this out. Right now, she wanted space, so we’d ease up on the pressure and give her that.
Besides, I had Luke—warm and sleep-soft against me. I slid my hand down his back, tracing the curve of his ass, dipping between his cheeks to find his hole still slick and slightly swollen from yesterday’s fun.
“Fuck,” he gasped, his cock hardening against my thigh as I circled his entrance with a gentle finger. “Eli...”
I pressed inside, just the tip of my finger, feeling him tighten around me before relaxing, accepting the intrusion. His eyes fluttered closed, lips parting on a soft moan that went straight to my own rapidly hardening cock.
“I love how responsive you are,” I murmured, working my finger deeper. “How perfectly you take whatever I give you.”
“It feels so...” he trailed off, searching for words as I reached for the lube and slicked his hole before adding a second finger, stretching him gently. “When you’re inside me, it’s like we’re one. Like I can’t tell where I end and you begin.”
“I know,” I whispered, kissing him deeply as my fingers continued their gentle exploration. “I feel it too.”
Something primal and possessive surged through me, and in one fluid movement, I pushed him onto his back, hovering over him with my hands planted on either side of his head. His eyes widened, pupils dilating.
“Eli,” he whispered, voice wrecked with want.
I didn’t answer with words. Instead, I crashed my mouth against his, kissing him with the desperate hunger that had built inside me for years—since that night before he left for Boston, when he’d confessed his feelings and I’d been too scared and blind to admit I felt the same. He opened for me instantly, his tongue meeting mine in a frantic dance as his hands clutched at my shoulders, pulling me closer.
I broke the kiss to trail my mouth down his neck, biting at the junction where it met his shoulder, marking him. His skin tasted like salt and sleep and sex, like home, like mine. I spread his legs roughly with my knees, positioning myself between his thighs. My cock was already rock hard, leaking pre-cum at the thought of being inside him again. I reached for the lube, squeezing a generous amount onto my palm.
I slicked myself quickly and lined up my cock with his entrance, the head pressing against his tight little hole.
“Look at me, pet,” I commanded, and his eyes snapped to mine, wide and trusting.
Without breaking eye contact, I pushed forward, breaching him in one firm thrust that had us both groaning. The tight heat of his body gripped my cock like a vise, perfect and overwhelming. I stilled, giving him time to adjust, watching every flicker of emotion cross his face—the momentary discomfort melting into pleasure, the vulnerability, the hunger.
“Fuck, Luke,” I breathed, overcome by how beautiful he looked beneath me, how right it felt to be inside him, joined to him. “You feel so fucking good.”
He wrapped his legs around my waist, ankles locking at the small of my back, pulling me deeper inside him.
“Move,” he urged, fingers digging into my shoulders. “Please, Eli. I need—”
I silenced him with another kiss, swallowing his pleas as I began to thrust. Slowly at first, savoring the drag and pull of his tight channel aroundmy cock, then faster, harder, driven by an insatiable need to claim him, to mark him, to make him irrevocably mine.
The admission came to me with startling clarity: I was attracted to him. Not just emotionally connected, not just possessive of what was mine, but genuinely, physically attracted to every inch of his body. To the lean muscles of his chest beneath my palms, to the sharp cut of his hipbones, to the way his cock leaked against his stomach as I pounded into him, to the soft, desperate sounds that escaped his throat with each thrust.
I loved him. All of him. And I loved being inside him, connected to him in the most intimate way possible.
“Mine,” I growled against his mouth, punctuating the word with a particularly deep thrust that had him arching off the bed. “Say it, Luke. Say you’re mine.”
“Yours,” he gasped, his hands sliding into my hair, tugging with just enough force to send sparks of pleasure-pain down my spine. “Always yours, Eli. Always have been.”
