I lifted up, let him strip me bare. His eyes traveled down my body—lingering on my abs, my hip bones, finally settling on my cock. I was hard enough to ache, curved up toward my abs, and under his gaze I felt more exposed than I ever had in my life.
"You're beautiful." The words sounded almost reverent. His hand reached out, hovered. "Can I?—"
"Yes. Anything. Everything."
His fingers wrapped around me, and my hips jerked involuntarily. His grip was firm, confident—he knew what felt good, at least in theory. When he stroked experimentally, base to tip, I had to bite my lip to keep from moaning too loud.
"Like that?" He did it again, watching my face with that desperate intensity.
"Yeah." I reached for him in turn, wrapped my hand around his cock. He sucked in a breath, abs tightening. "Like this?"
"Fuck, yes."
We found a rhythm together—stroking each other, learning what made the other gasp and shudder. His thumb swiped over my head, spreading the wetness there, and I returned the favor. When I twisted my wrist on the upstroke, he groaned low and deep, a sound I wanted to record and replay forever.
But it wasn't enough. I needed more.
"Axel." I stilled my hand, waited until his glazed eyes focused on mine. "I want to taste you."
His whole body went rigid.
"Kai—"
"You don't have to do anything." I pressed a kiss to his jaw, his neck, the hollow of his throat. "Just let me make you feel good."
"I've never—" He swallowed hard. "No one's ever?—"
The admission hit me like a punch to the chest. Not even his high school boyfriend. Not even Daniels. He was thirty-two years old, and no one had ever put their mouth on him.
"Let me be your first," I murmured against his skin. "Let me show you how good it can be."
For a long moment, he didn't answer. I could feel his heart slamming against his ribs, could see the war playing out behind his eyes. The want. The fear. The old voices telling him this was wrong, unnatural, a disappointment.
Then his hand came up to cup my face, and his thumb traced my cheekbone with devastating gentleness.
"Okay," he whispered. "I trust you."
I kissed my way down his body.
Took my time with it—learning the map of his scars, the places that made him gasp, the spots where his muscles twitched under my tongue. His abs contracted as I traced each ridge. His breath caught when I nipped at his hip bone. His hands grabbed tightly onto the sheets when I mouthed at the crease of his thigh, so close to where he needed me but not quite there.
"Kai—" His voice was wrecked. "Please."
I looked up at him. He was propped on his elbows, watching me with grey eyes gone nearly black. His chest heaved with each breath. His cock lay against his prominent abs, flushed and leaking, twitching as I breathed hot air across the shaft.
"Tell me what you want."
"Your mouth." He barely got the words out. "Please, I need your mouth."
I held his gaze as I lowered my head and licked a long stripe from base to tip.
He made a sound I'd never heard from him before—broken, desperate, almost pained. His head fell back, throat exposed, tendons standing out sharp. I took the head between my lips, swirled my tongue, and he cursed so viciously I would have laughed if my mouth wasn't occupied.
"Oh fuck—ohfuck?—"
I sank lower, taking more of him. He was big enough that I had to focus, relax my throat, breathe through my nose. His taste flooded my senses—salt, musk,Axel. His hips twitched, fighting not to thrust, and I loved him for the restraint.
"You can move." I pulled off just long enough to speak. "I can take it."
