Every time I see him naked, it knocks the air from my lungs. Not just because of the physical, though the universe knows he’s beautiful, but because it’s him. Lucas. Pure and breathtaking in ways he’ll never understand. Laid bare not just in body, but in trust.
A soft, helpless sound escapes his throat, a shy, sweet sound, and it undoes whatever was left of my restraint.
My eyes drag back up to his face.
His lips are parted, chest rising in shaky breaths. His lashes are heavy, and those brown eyes, wide, unblinking, stay locked on mine like I’m the only thing keeping him from falling apart.
“Everything about you is perfect,” I whisper. And I mean it. I fucking mean it.
He swallows, blinking up at me, and I can see how vulnerable he feels, how much he’s giving me just by lying there. He doesn’t say anything.
He doesn’t have to.
I reach out and cup his face with a tenderness I barely recognize in myself, my thumbs brushing over the warm skin of his cheeks, I lower myself again and kiss him deeply, he opens up for me with a moan, tilting his head to give me more access and I take it—take him—his taste, his heat, the little gasp he lets out when my hand ghosts down his side.
I break the kiss again, trying to contain whatever self-control I have left.
“How do you want me, Baby?” I ask in a low, rough voice barely above a whisper but heavy with meaning.
His eyes flutter. Then he bites down on his bottom lip, teeth tugging pink flesh like he’s trying to will the words out.
“I… I don’t know,” he stammers, voice small. But I can see it in his eyes, he knows exactly what he feels. He’s just never said it aloud before.
I give a soft, knowing hum, brushing my lips over his jaw.
“I know there’s something you want from me, sweetheart,” I murmur against his skin, lips ghosting his pulse. “You’ve been moving against me like you want more. Like you’re aching for it. So tell me…” I trail my fingers down his arm, watching his skin rise in goosebumps. “What is it?”
He swallows, cheeks are blazing red, but he doesn’t look away. There’s something brave in his gaze now. Fragile, but blooming.
“I want you,” he whispers. “I want… You inside me, Alex.”
The air cracks open.
Fuck.
I close my eyes for a second, steadying myself. The sound of his voice saying that, so shy and pure, pulls something deep and desperate from inside me. His eyes are wide, expectant, and vulnerable when I look at him again. But not scared. Not of me. Not of this.
“You want me,” I murmur, letting the words melt over his skin like a whispered prayer.
He nods, barely, breath catching.
“You want me to fuck you, Lucas?” I whisper it into his skin, just above his heart.
His breath stutters. He nods again, more desperate this time, and I feel the way his fingers clench in the sheets, how hisbody reacts to just my voice like I’ve already touched him where he needs it most.
“You want my cock inside you?’’ My voice drops lower, rougher as I flick my tongue against his nipples, “Deep. Each stroke torturous until you forget your name?”
A broken sound escapes him, and I feel his thighs tense around my hips, and when I look down, he’s leaking all over himself, his cock flushed, twitching against his stomach like it’s aching for me.
“You want me to ruin you a little, hmm?” I tease, my hands ghosting down his sides, slow, like I’m memorizing him. He arches into the touch, chasing it, every part of his body begging for more.
“Want to feel me stretch you open?” I continue, dragging my voice and tongue along his skin like silk. “Want me to fuck you slow, like I’ve got all the time in the world? Want to cry from how good it feels?”
A shiver rolls through him, his lips parting as if the air itself is too much. So I let my hand slide lower, fingers wrapping around his cock in a lazy stroke.
He gasps with the most seductive voice I have ever heard, hips lifting into my touch like instinct. His body shudders under me, so responsive that it makes my dick twitch so hard.
“You’re leaking everywhere,” I murmur, my voice low and wrecked. I slide my hand around his cock again, stroking him slowly, just enough to drive him crazy. He arches, hips lifting without thought, chasing more. A soft, choked whimper escapes him—so raw, so needy it makes my pulse thunder.
