Isha closed the distance between us. For a heart-stopping moment I thought he might kiss me, but he didn’t. He cupped my face with his heated palm and sighed. “I can separate the two. I have to, because I can’t stay away from you. I have to go. Can I see you later? Please?”
I hesitated only a moment before I acquiesced. “Come to the house. Any time after six.”
He nodded and left.
* * *
Isha
I’d come to accept that everything about Jude made me act insane, but I was oddly calm as I knocked on his door at one minute past six that night.
He didn’t answer. My heart pounded so loudly I thought I might faint, until I realised the door was on the latch.
I pushed it open. Soft indie music greeted me, and I followed the sound of it to Jude’s tiny kitchen. He was at the fridge, barefoot in sweatpants, nothing else.
Blood roared in my ears, hot and thick. The fridge door swung shut. He met my gaze, and all bets were off.
I advanced on him, seizing his waistband and backing him against the kitchen counter, while he went for my collar. No words were exchanged, but it didn’t matter. I’d come here fooling myself that we might talk, but I had nothing to say. I wanted Jude. And I couldn’t leave without having him. Even if it was the last time.
Jude undid my shirt and pushed it over my shoulders, sending it, and my suit jacket, to the floor. I toed off my shoes, prepared to fuck him right there, but he caught my hands. “Upstairs.”
I didn’t need telling twice. I let him tow me to the stairs and up to his messy bedroom. The sight of his unmade bed made my blood run impossibly hotter, and it was all I could do not to throw him down.
Jude undid my belt and shoved my trousers over my hips, his arousal hard to miss in his thin sweatpants. I played with his length, revelling in his answering grunt. For a man who claimed to have trouble processing emotion, with his clothes off, Jude was the most expressive man I’d ever been with. And since Grindr had hit my phone two years ago, there’d been a lot. Too many to count, or maybe it was just I couldn’t recall their faces, their names, or how they’d made me feel.
With Jude, I remembered everything.
I rid him of his sweatpants and ditched my remaining clothes. I had to touch him. Needed it. Craved it. I ran my hands over his creamy white skin, reconnecting with his strong chest and defined abs, his smooth back, and his puckered nipples. I squeezed one, twisting it between my fingers. He gasped, and my dick jumped.
Urgency flowed between us. The fantasy was to take my time, to explore him, make the most of him, but the reality was I could barely control myself. I couldn’t wait.
And he didn’t seem to want me to.
Jude crawled onto his bed, and shoved the wrinkled duvet to the floor. He opened a drawer in the bedside table and tossed lube and condoms over his shoulder.
I closed my fist around my dick and jerked myself, testing the waters. I felt set to explode, and despite the all-consuming urge to be inside him as fast as possible, the risk of blowing my load in ten seconds flat was real. Too real.
Jude glanced over his shoulder, his gaze wide-eyed and hungry.
I understood.
I felt his pain.
Still jerking off, I joined him on the bed. He was on his knees with his back to me. I trailed shaking fingers down his spine, absorbing his shiver. He dropped his head, and I tapped my unsheathed dick against his hole, imagining what it would be like to fuck him bare. To feel his tight wet heat envelop me with no barrier.
It was too much, and nowhere near enough. I pressed my hand between his shoulder blades and pushed him down until his chest touched the mattress, nudging his legs apart with my knees. He liked it rough, but I had something else in mind first. Something we’d done before.
I knelt behind him and buried my face in him, driving my tongue into him with enough force to make him yelp. But his surprise didn’t last long before eagerness took over, and he was pushing back against me, desperate for more. I tongued him hard, and his every growl and moan went straight to my cock. I didn’t have much experience with rimming, but Jude made me want everything that he was prepared to give, and the taste of him on my lips left me lightheaded.
Beneath me, Jude quivered, his tortured moans ringing out in the quiet house. I wondered how thick his walls were, and pressed my tongue inside him a little bit deeper.
“Shit.” Jude squirmed, and fisted the sheets. “That’s so fucking hot.”
I sat back on my heels. “You’re so fucking hot. Turn around.”
“No.”
“Do it.”
