I pulsed against his tongue, leaked a little.
He pulled back and smacked his lips. “Fucking tasty.”
God, this man.
Then his finger went all the way. Jesus, it hit something . . . my . . . fuck!
Stars bloomed on the ceiling, then spun and swirled and—
He pulled back. My ass missed him immediately.
Then he slid in again.
“Kiss me when you do that. Put me on the bed and kiss me, damn it.”
My cock fell out of his mouth as he chuckled. “So bossy, library man.”
“I need you, Jer, like I haven’t needed anybody in fucking forever.”
His laughter quieted. For a split second, I thought I’d gone too far. In a moment of prostate-ticking-induced pleasure, I’d said too much.
Then Jeremiah was standing before me, brushing back my hair and kissing me like I was the last man on earth, the only man who’d ever lived.
I melted in his arms as we eased back onto the bed, his weight atop me. Air whooshed out of my lungs, but I didn’t care. All that mattered was that kiss.
After a moment, he sat up and tugged his shirt off. Then I watched as he removed his jeans. His own erection flew free, unconstrained by undies.
“Where’s your lube?”
“Dresser drawer.”
“Condom?”
I hesitated. Of course, he was right. We couldn’t be stupid or irresponsible. I knew I was negative. Hell, I couldn’t remember having sex this decade. And this was Jeremiah. We hadn’t had a lot of sex over the past few weeks, but we’d found time to get naked between dinners and slumber parties and all the other things a dad—or dads—had to do.
“Theo?”
I blinked up at him. “Is it terrible that I want . . .” My words trailed off.
He leaned down and kissed me.
“It’s not terrible, and I just got tested a month ago, right before we met, but it’s a big step, a really, really big step.”
I drew a deep breath and let it out. He was right. I knew better.
“They’re in the drawer.”
He reached across and retrieved the lube and a condom. With no small amount of regret, I watched him roll on the rubber, then lift my legs and lean over me.
“One day, hopefully soon, there will be nothing between us,” he said, pressing a kiss to my lips as though promising me the world.
I nodded, unable to speak.
He grabbed the lube and squirted some on his hand, rubbed his fingers together, then reached down to stroke slickness between my cheeks. His middle finger slipped inside, and I forgot everything we’d just said.
When a second finger joined the first, I forgot my own name.
In and out.
