I buried my face in the curve of his neck, breathing him in like oxygen. “You matter more thananything. That’s the fucking problem.”
The kiss we fell into then was brutal—more pain than pleasure, more fire than heat. Hands everywhere, mouths devouring, teeth clashing. Copper burst across my tongue and I welcomed it in all its savagery. A war in the shape of a kiss.
We stumbled deeper into the trees, swallowed whole by shadows, by silence. Hidden from the world. From expectations. From everything but us.
Clothes were yanked, shoved, torn in our frenzy to touch skin—hot, bare, aching skin. A seam ripped, fabric gave way, but neither of us cared. We were already lost to desperation—a hunger so fierce it made my hands shake.
His fingers trembled as they dragged across my ribs, settling over my chest like he was trying to memorize me with his palms. Mine wouldn’t stop clinging to him, terrified he’d vanish if I ever let go.
The oak behind me scraped across my spine—splinters and bark biting into skin—but I welcomed the pain. It grounded me. Anchored me to this moment. To him.
“I need you,” I breathed, panting into his mouth as his tongue tangled violently with mine, all teeth and desperate need.
Sin nodded against me, wordless, his breath catching as I released my grip on his hair and began to fumble at the buttons of his shirt. We spun, and this time it was his back against the tree as my mouth devoured a path down his throat, teeth dragging over his Adam’s apple. He swallowed a moan, but I felt it quake through him.
I licked down his chest, tasting the salt on his skin, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat against my lips. My mouth wrapped around one nipple, sucking until it peaked under my tongue, then switching to the other, all while Sin growled low, fingers tangled in my hair like he might pull me apart.
Then I dropped to my knees.
His inked skin was already familiar, but I traced the lines again with my tongue anyway—like worship, like prayer. I yanked down his pants and underwear in one motion, and his cock sprang free, flushed and hard, slapping against his stomach. I could feel the heat pouring off him. The scent of his arousal curled around me, thick and dizzying.
My fingers wrapped around him, slow and reverent, reacquainting myself with the weight of him, the texture, the impossible softness over steel. My mouth watered, craving the taste I’d missed like an addict.
I ran my thumb over the slick head, collecting precum, and brought it to my lips. I moaned at the flavor—salty, musky, unmistakably him.
“I want to try something different,” I said, voice low and shaky, surging back up to crash my mouth against his. He tasted himself on my tongue as I tore at my own slacks, frantic and clumsy.
His hands slipped under my shirt, and everywhere he touched I ignited. Goosebumps flared. My breath hitched. My whole body vibrated with tension.
I wrapped a hand around my cock, stroking it once, twice—just enough to ease the edge—as I fed on his mouth like it was the last thing I’d ever taste. I ached to be inside him. To feel him clench around me. To take him, ruin him. But we had no lube, and not enough time.
And even if I wanted to destroy him for what he did to me, I didn’t want to hurt him. Not like that.
It was cruel, how much I played with his emotions. All the push and pull. The games. I hated myself for it. But I couldn’t stop. I was selfish. Weak. Addicted to the way he looked at me like I was still worth saving.
“Hold yourself still,” I whispered.
His hand wrapped around his own length, eyes wide and questioning. Dark, blown pupils stared up at me through thick lashes—hungry. Trusting? I shuffled closer, our cocks brushing—slick heads kissing, the moment electric.
“Oh fuck,” Sin moaned, back arching slightly as I pulled my foreskin forward, enveloping the tip of his cock with mine.
His whole body shuddered, and so did mine. It was blistering. Raw. Divine.
Saliva spilled from my mouth and dripped where we were joined, slicking the heat between us as I wrapped one hand tight around our lengths and began to stroke.
Sin’s mouth crashed into mine, tongue fucking its way between my teeth, stealing the air from my lungs. We were feral. Animalistic in our need. Chasing the inevitable high.
My balls drew up tight. My spine arched. My whole body buzzed like it had been lit on fire. The friction of us—skin on skin, heat to heat—was unbearable and perfect.
“Fuck—I’m not gonna last, Theo,” Sin gasped, eyes glittering black, locked onto mine like I was the only thing in the world that could keep him grounded.
I didn’t look away.
His hand joined mine. Fast. Tight. Desperate. Our cocks slid together, leaking, throbbing, pulsing with the weight of what was coming.
He kissed me again—soft this time. Just a breath, a whisper. Our foreheads touched, and our breath mingled, shared, like we were the same body trying to split in two.
My cock thickened, every nerve ending blazing. A groan rumbled in my throat.
