The disquiet faded.I love him, I love him, I love him. Words were beyond me, but I pressed my face into his chest and prayed he heard me.
One hand still tangled in my hair, Sam reached over me and flicked his Bluetooth speaker on. Some indie band I couldn’t place filtered out, all emo lyrics and soft guitars. The melodies were gentle, pretty, almost. But the bass and drums were dark enough to be sexy as hell. Just like him.
I belatedly remembered that he was naked too. And realised that he’d somehow shifted us along the carpet so he was leaning against the bed, me a heap of limbs and emotion in his lap. I gazed up at him and trailed my hand over his cock. It sprung to life against my fingers and he sucked in a breath.
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I want to.”
“Yeah, well, I want to do things to you too, but not if it upsets you.”
“You don’t upset me. I upset myself.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. Sometimes I do, but not this time.”
Sam nodded slowly. “Do you trust me?”
“Course I do.”
“Sure about that?”
“Yes.”
“Would you get on your knees for me?”
“Not on the floor. On the bed, maybe?”
“Do it.”
His soft command went straight to my dick. I hauled myself off the floor and scrambled onto the bed. Sam followed and positioned me how he wanted me—on my knees, chest supported by a pillow that smelt of him. Of us, actually, as we rarely slept on the same side of the bed two nights in a row. He widened my legs, somehow knowing the exact position that was easiest on my damaged leg.
I felt no fear as he moved behind me, only the prickly heat of anticipation.Does he want to fuck me?I’d only bottomed once, years ago when a coke-fuelled hook-up had got out of hand. I’d been too off my nut to realise the dude had—unintentionally—hurt me, and pre-season training had started the day after.
I shivered.
Fun times.
Sam rubbed my back. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to. I wasn’t bent up like this for talking, but I knew him well enough to know he wouldn’t try and cram his dick inside me without a conversation, and—
“Holyshit!”
Sam swept his tongue over me, gently at first, but then with more purpose when I didn’t object.
As if I could. Fucking hell, it was incredible. Teasing strokes interspersed with probing licks stole my power of speech. Stole everything except the ability to simultaneously shiver, dribble, and moan.
The pleasure was insane. Not enough to make me come, but just enough to remind me that I’d fall off the edge of the world when I did.
I arched my back, desperate for friction. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
“Yeah? You like that?”
I mourned the sudden loss of his mouth on me. “Don’t stop. Please. Don’t ever stop.”
He took pity on me and resumed his slow torture, and I went back to falling apart in the sweetest way. Minutes went by, maybe even hours, I had no clue. All I knew was that I’d combust if we carried on like this, and I didn’t fucking care.I wanna burn for him.Fire crept through me, singeing every negative thought in its path, a temporary cure for a permanent problem. In the back of my mind, I knew the moment he stopped, I’d be right back where I’d started, but for every second he had his tongue in me, I was a better man. A happy man. A man who could only sob with pleasure as the love of my life took me apart.
Sam reached around me and took my cock in his hand. A feather-light squeeze was all it took. With his tongue still sweeping into me and his fingers around my dick, I was so undone. I convulsed, let out a strangled yell, and came like a fucking freight train.
