His mouth moves to my neck.
“Can’t get used to how good you taste,” he breathes, then bites down gently, sucking until I shiver. I tip my head back, offering more.
My fingers tangle in his hair, tugging, grounding myself while he keeps sucking and biting, keeps touching, keeps driving me insane. There’s nothing in the world but him. His hands are on my bare skin. His hips grind into mine again as he kisses me. I let out a gasp against his lips, my voice caught somewhere between a whimper and a plea.
“Take off my shirt, Lucas,” He orders, voice rough, breaking our kiss.
His eyes burn into mine, blue and dark with lust, like the whole world has narrowed to just this—to just me. I bite my bottom lip, hesitating only for a second. My hands tremble slightly as I reach for the top button of his shirt. I’ve seen him shirtless countless times, but somehow this feels different. My fingers fumble slightly on the buttons, and the whole time, he doesn’t look away. Not once.
It makes my skin heat up everywhere.
Finally, I finished the last one. Then push the fabric back off his broad shoulders. The shirt slides down his arms, and I swallow thickly as I take in the sight of him—fair skin over sharp muscle, the way his chest moves with his breath, the smooth cut of his abdomen.
He’s a wet dream.
So stupidly, painfully handsome that I forget to breathe for a second.
He lifts my chin with two fingers, in a gentle way, coaxing me to look into his eyes. Then he kisses me again, this time deep, slow, deliberate. Like he wants to memorize my mouth.
His hands roam across my bare chest, fingers brushing my nipples and sending a sharp jolt through me. I gasp into the kiss, my body arching involuntarily.
Then one hand slides lower, down to the waistband of my pants.
“I’m going to take off your trousers and whatever you’re wearing underneath them now,” he murmurs against my mouth. His voice is a low growl, almost reverent, like he’s giving me time to say no.
He waits.
But I don’t stop him. I couldn’t even if I wanted to.
My pulse hammers in my throat.
Without a word, he pushes away from me lightly as my legs untangle from his waist, then he undoes my belt with slow,practiced ease. I feel like I’m vibrating from the inside out. He pulls my trousers and boxer briefs down together, to my knees, then off completely, tugging away my shoes and tossing the rest aside.
And suddenly, I’m bare.
I’ve never been naked in front of anyone before. Not like this. Not with the lights still on and my heart this exposed. And not even when I was fifteen in that dimly lit room. I stop my thoughts there.
We buried that memory, Lucas, remember? Don’t think about it now. Please don’t.
I look down at myself, and I’m down to just socks.
It should be humiliating, but I don’t have time to feel that, because Alex is looking at me like I’m the most mesmerizing thing he’s ever seen.
My cock is hard, flushed, already slick at the tip. I should be embarrassed, I should be trying to hide myself, but then his hand closes around me—big, warm, careful, and a gasp rips out of me, my eyes squeezing shut.
“Look at me, Lucas.”
The command isn’t gentle. It isn’t even a request. It sinks deep, straight to my gut, and the burn that follows is sharp, sweet, and consuming.
I open my eyes.
He’s staring at me like I’m the only thing in the world worth breaking for. His gaze is so hungry it steals my breath.
“Fuck,” he mutters, voice rough, almost reverent. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”
His mouth claims mine again, hungrier this time, rougher, like words aren’t enough to hold him together. His fingers ghost over my slick head, spreading my pre-come with slow, deliberate circles before sliding down my length. One long stroke—tip to base, and back again. My legs tremble around his waist, my bodystrung tight as if every nerve is tuned only to him. I can’t hold back the sounds tearing out of me, his name falling from my lips over and over like I’m drunk on him.
He presses hot, wet kisses down my neck, my jaw, my shoulder, claiming me everywhere his lips can reach.
