I crawl onto the mattress and sigh at the feel of his warm body when I settle against his side. Skin to skin, my hard cock pressed against his thigh, arousal pumping through me unfettered, I feel free and capable of taking care of my man. Leaning in, I seal his smile with my own. Our cocks brush together, and we exchange sounds of relief as I wrap my hand around both of us, giving us a stroke. His fingers dig into my hips, hungry for me. I want to pound on my chest for being able to give him that sensation.
“Do you want to?” I rasp, tearing my mouth away and skirting my hand to give his ass cheek a squeeze.
He groans and settles onto his back, spreading his legs and bringing his feet to the base of his ass. ‘Yes’ has never looked or sounded so sexy. With his cock ready and leaking, his sac plump and drawn up high, I’m in danger of coming just from the sight of him. Knowing I’ll be able to look into his eyes like this only makes it all the more intimate.
Shuffling to the side of the bed, I fetch the new bottle of lube I bought. It was a manifestation of sorts—if you purchase the necessary items, it might happen. His crease is like an inferno when I settle between his legs and circle his hole with my slickened fingers. The way his eyes slip closed and his facial muscles go slack is a picture I’m going to live off in my mind.
“Fuck Chris,” he slurs, running a hand down his stomach when I press my index finger inside his heat.
How this man wants me is beyond me. Planting my hand next to him, I feed on his panting open mouth, working him open. He moans my name against my lips, a dream I never thought I’d have again.
“Now, please,” he begs, his hands cupping my face.
“Do you want a condom?”
“No. Just you, if that’s okay.”
I’m grateful he doesn’t mind. I don’t want to chance losing any of the sensation in my dick right now since it’s finally working when I want it to. Sitting back on my feet, I scooch forward, slicking myself up while I watch Remy draw his knees up to his chest. I was so ignorant when I was younger that I didn’t even know men could have sex like this. The internet and television have made leaps and bounds since those days when society was too shocked to become educated.
As I drag more lube over his twitching hole, teasing it, a feeling too big fills my chest. It’s possessive, proud, humbled, and grateful all at the same time. Remy is my boyfriend, and he’s coming home with me at Christmas to meet my family. We’re in my bed, free of expectations, about to claim each other with our bodies in a way we never have before—with deep emotions. If it wasn’t love that brought us to this moment, I’ll never understand what love is. Because I swear I see it in his eyes, and it’s all I can do not to cry.
“I dreamt about this,” I whisper, my voice sounding thick.
“What?”
“Deserving you. You looking at me like I earned you.”
A wash of tenderness spills over his features, and he pushes up on an elbow. His fingers slide to the back of my neck and tug me down for another kiss. Just as my lips meet his, a sharp blade of pain slices up my spine, locking my body up and stealing my breath.
The strangled sound that tears past my choked airway isn’t even a word. The pain is so debilitating, I can’t even breathe and have to grip onto Remy’s shoulder for support.
No… not now. Not fucking now!
“Chris! What’s wrong?”
I can’t even tell him, but I’m too pissed and ashamed to even if I could, slowly slumping to the side to get my palm on the mattress for balance. I let out another pitiful sound, but leaning to my right and forward as I brace myself finally helps stop whatever my back didn’t like about my quick movement.
“Oh, God. I’m sorry. Here, can you lie down?”
His gentle hand glides soothingly across my shoulders, and his other hooks underneath my armpit to help me lower myself. I crash onto my side and flop over onto my back. The sensation of a spike being driven up my spine stops, finally allowing me to take a gulp of air.
“I am so sorry. Are you okay? Do you need an ice pack?”
“I’m fine,” I pant. I’m not fine. My fucking cock is a hundred percent deflated, and my boyfriend is lubed up and unfulfilled right next to me. Giving myself a few strokes, I take him in, visual therapy from the upset, and rub his thigh reassuringly. “Just…give me a minute.”
“Chris,” he scoffs, eyes wild, “I’m not worried about that. I’m worried aboutyou.”
Fucking hell. Compassion is the last thing I want right now. “No. I want to,” I reassure him, hoping there are no lingering signs of agony in my expression.
Shaking his head, he leans down and strokes my jaw with his thumb. “I want you to get off, too, but more importantly, I want you not to be in pain.”
Only Remy would care more about someone else than having a passionate moment ruined. This is why he deserves to have his mind blown. I keep stroking myself idly, willing the blood to return now that whatever got pinched before seems to be at ease.
“I’ve got some pills the doctor gave me.” I nod toward my bathroom, rubbing my palm up and down the curve of his hip. “They’re in my medicine cabinet. Let me go get one, and I’ll make you forget everyone’s name but mine again.”
The incredulous look on his face isn’t the response I was hoping for to my backup plan. Apparently, there’s no sexy way to say, ‘Hey, wait, I’ll go grab my Sildenafil so I can fuck you.’ If I could just get my cock to stand up, though, I’m hoping it will wipe that worry out of his eyes. I push on the mattress, intent on sliding my legs gingerly over the side of the bed, but he puts a hand on my chest to stop me.
“Wait. I have a better idea.”
