I nod once, watching as he touches me with careful fingers, clinical in their assessment as they trace each bruise, testing for tenderness. He pulls back the instant I tense, reading my body’s signals without having to be told.
“Bruised, but no fractures,” he concludes, hands retreating to neutral territory on my stomach. “You should clean those knuckles, though.”
Finished with his examination, he bends to kiss my shoulder, the contact brief but deliberate. His lips move to my neck next, hot and lingering as my pulse quickens.
A rumble builds in my chest, approval vibrating up my throat. My hand finds his hip, fingers digging into the firm muscle to pull him closer. The memory of last night’s kiss returns, the electric current that ran between us when our mouths met, and I want to test if it was a fluke or real.
I turn my head, capturing his lips with mine. Thecontact sends the same shock through my system, nerve endings firing with pleasure signals that my brain struggles to process. His mouth opens under the pressure, tongue twining with mine as his body shifts closer.
We roll toward each other, limbs tangling as our bodies align. His skin burns hot, chest to chest, hips to hips. His cock nudges my thigh, hard with a morning arousal to match my own.
His fingers grip my hipbone, using the leverage to rock into me. The friction pulls a groan from deep in my chest, the sound muffled by our continuing kiss.
I want to be inside him again. Want the tight heat of his body gripping my dick, want to watch as pleasure wipes away thought and reason. But memories of last night’s roughness flash through my mind, the tears tracking down his temples, the way his body tensed with pain beneath mine.
I pull back from the kiss, our lips separating with a soft, wet sound that sends another pulse of heat to my groin.
“You okay?” Gabriel’s pupils dilate, black swallowing hazel as his hand slides from my hip to my lower back.
“I hurt you last night.” I swallow hard, my throat clicking. “I don’t want to make the same mistake.”
The worry eases. “You didn’t hurt me. Not in any way that matters.”
“I made you cry.” My thumb traces the path where tears ran down his cheeks, the skin now dry and warm beneath my touch.
“And then you made me come so hard I saw stars.” His hips rock against me again. “Let’s focus on the good parts.”
An unexpected laugh escapes me, and my dick throbs in agreement, still resting on his thigh, still wanting what I’m afraid to take.
Gabriel’s hand slides between our bodies, fingers wrapping around both our lengths, gripping them together. The contact sends a jolt up my spine, and my hips thrust forward.
“Next time,” he moans, hand working between our bodies, “we can try it the other way. If you want.”
Next time.
His certainty that this isn’t a one-time thing should trigger alarms and send me running for the safety of isolation. Instead, it settles inside me like a promise I never knew I wanted to hear.
There will be a next time. And I’ll be gentler. I’ll take my time. I’ll learn the dips and rises of his body until I map every place that draws a gasp or shudder of pleasure from him.
For now, I lose myself in the building pressure of his hand around us both, in the heat of his mouth as he kisses me again, in the unfamiliar peace of waking up beside someone.
I grab his hip for leverage as we grind together, his hand shuttling up and down our lengths, our pre-cum slicking his palm. As his strokes speed up, my breath comes in ragged gasps, and heat coils tight in my groin, building with each slick slide. I rock into his fist, my dick throbbing against his, the friction undoing me fast.
“That’s it,” he murmurs, rough with arousal. “Let go for me, Saint.”
His words push me over the edge, permission and praise wrapped in that honeyed drawl. I come with a strangled groan, spilling hot over his fingers. He works me through it, drawing out each pulse until I’m spent and shaking.
With a twist of his wrist, he comes, too, adding to the mess between our bodies. His mouth slackens with pleasure, lips parting on a silent cry. Transfixed by his release, I dive forward, sucking the gasps from his lips until his body stops shaking.
My breath comes in heavy gasps, chest rising and falling as my heart rate slows. Gabriel collapses besideme, his skin slick with sweat, cum cooling on both our stomachs.
The release emptied my mind, leaving a rare moment of quiet in place of the constant buzz of thoughts, impulses, and memories that usually fight for space in my head.
Gabriel’s arm flops across his eyes, blocking out the morning light. His chest rises and falls in rhythm with mine, our bodies synced in the aftermath of another mind-blowing orgasm. The silence between us is comfortable rather than strained, neither of us rushing to fill it with meaningless words.
When Gabriel’s arm slides away from his face, his head turns on the pillow, his attention drifting past me to where a single framed print now hangs crooked from when I slammed him into the wall last night.
“Freedom From Fear,” he murmurs.
