“Oh, fuck!” My balls tighten, my hand shoots out, shoving him back onto the bed. “Do you want us to blow this?”
He grabs me and pulls me down on top of him. “I just want to blow you.”
I can’t believe he can still make me laugh, even at a time like this. “This really shouldn’t be so much fun.”
“It’s always fun with you,” he says, his tone turning earnest, that lovely melancholy I adore in him.
“Then let’s keep it that way. I want to do this with you again. And all the things. I want to live a long life with you.”
“Do it. Fuck me, Slayer. Let’s save the universe.”
God, I want to. More than anything. But it’s such a sudden turnaround, and there’s a lot on his shoulders. “Do you think you’d be doing this if not for?—”
“Jesus, August. You just shot a bunch of people, destroyed three realities, and now you won’t fuck yourself?”
“I mean…”
He kisses the small protest from my lips and looks me in the eye. “If you love it, I know I will.”
“I do love it.”
“And I love you.”
He’s already got the lubricant out, so I take it from him. “I’ll be careful.”
“Not too careful.”
“Oh… Are you sur—” He cuts me off with another kiss, then, by the way he sinks two begging fists into my hair, I can only conclude that I would absolutely kill to be fucked by me, here, tonight, in this amazing hotel room…
And after all, we’ve got a multiverse to save.
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
BAD AUGUST
CAN’T GET ENOUGH
August takes his time finger-fucking me.
He’s telling me how tight I am, like it’s the biggest turn-on of the day. He kisses me harder, my body screaming for his touch. He knows once he hits my sweet spot, it’s all over for me. Because I know how much he loves when I do that for him.
All the energy we’ve built already is back, the air positively shimmering. He’s not even touching my cock, nor am I touching his, my fingers busy twisting in the bedcover. But I feel as if he were.
The pulsing pleasure from the energy between us builds and builds. All of it on top of what I might ordinarily feel being with him. Desire, longing that never stops, the sheer delight of his enjoyment in me, our name on his lips like a song.
I have never let anyone do this. I’ve never wanted anyone else to do this. But August’s different in every way. I want to feel what he feels; I want every experience of him there is. I want him to fuck me so I know how it feels for him when I fuck him. I want to know how I pull those desperate cries from him. I want every piece of him.
He’s working me open, dropping kisses on my chest, my lips. The world’s fucking ending, and he’s not hurrying me. When I gasp, he catches it with his lips. When I groan, he bites my shoulder, rapt.
I could do this for the rest of my life. Easily. So easily.
My August. My only one, whispering our name, kissing me. I stroke his cock, the precum begging for me. It’s such a turn-on the way he’s watching me, dripping for me. “I want you,” I whisper. “I can’t wait. I want you.”
“Are you?—”
“Please don’t ask if I’m sure again. I’ve never wanted anything more than I want your dick, right here, right now. Please. I can’t wait.”
“Then you’re in control.” He lies back on the mattress, pulls my leg over, and suddenly I’m straddling him. He supports himself on his muscular arms, kisses me. I’m half sheathed in the robe still, but he slides it off my shoulders and throws it to the floor. He slathers his dick in more lube while he kisses me, then lies back, pulling a pillow beneath his head.
