For a moment, it’s like I cease to exist. I groan loudly as my own cum spills over my fingers and lands against the wall.
“Fuck yeah,” Declan mutters as his grip tightens. “I can feel your ass tighten when you come,” he says. “God, you feel so good. My good fucking boy. My good, dirty fucking boy.”
His thrusts slow as he meets his release. I can feel his cock shudder as he comes inside me. And when he’s done, I almost don’t want him to pull out. I don’t want his seed to leak from inside me.
And I don’t want to wash it away, because I know it’ll be another year before I get to feel it again.
When he’s spent, he pulls out of me and gathers me into his arms, kissing the side of my head like I’m something he adores. Like I’m someone he loves.
“I’m sorry I don’t say the things I’m supposed to say,” he mumbles against my cheek. “I’m so bad at this, Shelby, but you should know you are the best thing in my life. I hope you know that. And I do want you as more, I do. It’s just…I need you as my friend more than anything.”
For a moment, it feels like I can’t breathe. To hear him acknowledge this thing between us and the way we’ve been stuck as friends for so long feels like a big change from the man who used to just admit how easy sex with me was.
To hear him even say he wants more is enough for now.
Turning around, I stare into his eyes as I say, “I’ll be whatever you need. And I mean it.”
He smiles as he leans forward and takes my mouth in a tender kiss.
Chapter Thirty-One
Declan
One day until the wedding
I wake up with warm arms around me. Peeling my eyes open, I look down to see Colin’s hand resting on my chest. It tugs at my heart to feel him so close. To know he was here, comforting me in the middle of the night.
What does this mean?
I run my hand along his arm and intertwine my fingers with his. Holding our clasped hands over my heart, I take a deep breath and imagine waking up like this every morning.
What have I been doing with my life that I let him out of my reach?
“Good morning,” he whispers behind me.
“Morning,” I reply.
Neither of us moves. Surely, it’s highly inappropriate to be lying with one of the grooms in bed like this the day before the wedding, but he doesn’t seem to mind.
“I came in to sit for the painting last night, but you were already asleep,” he says.
“So you decided to lie down and cuddle with me instead?” I ask.
After a moment of hesitation, he says, “You were restless. Having a nightmare, and I couldn’t leave you.”
For reasons I don’t understand, I squeeze his fingers. “Thank you.”
As I climb from the bed, I let out a groan from the pounding in my head. “What time is it?” I ask.
He glances at his watch. “Just past seven in the morning.”
Turning back, I stare at him in my bed, and it does something to me. The sight of him sprawled on my mattress, his golden-blond hair against my pillow. His warm, blushing skin in the early morning light.
Too many memories come flooding back.Goodmemories.
Exquisite memories.
“I need to wash up,” I mutter as I stand from the bed. But before I leave the room, I turn back to him. “Don’t…go anywhere,” I stammer.
