Cade's eyes went wide, and a soft choking sound escaped his throat before he cleared it and answered in a gravelly voice, "Jesus, Tris, there's no way I'd say no to that."
Thrilled at that response, Tristan undressed and dug out supplies from the drawer before tossing them onto the bed. Lifting a leg to straddle Cade's hips, he squirted out a generous glob of lube and started fingering himself.
Another groan and a curse. "Fuck, Tris, let me do that for you."
"No, I don't want you to do the work. This is about you feeling good," he replied, breath hitching from the stimulation.
"It's not a hardship, believe me."
"Just watch, please," Tristan asked, and though Cade clamped his mouth shut, his eyes burned with impatience and lust.
Tristan quickly worked himself up to three fingers, watching Cade's expressions evolve from fascinated to eager to hungry. When he slid his fingers out, Cade licked his lips in a lascivious gesture, and Tristan felt a rush of greedy desire along with an unexpected, unfamiliar surge of empowerment.
After tearing open the foil and rolling the condom onto Cade's now dripping, rock-hard dick, he positioned himself as strong hands came up to grip his thighs. Sinking down, inch by glorious inch without breaking eye contact, was absurdly erotic, and Cade's strangled groans were nearly as satisfying as the sensation of the thick cock filling him up.
Planting both hands on chiseled pecs, Tristan watched the other man as he rocked, thrilled that Cade's eyelids fluttered every time he bottomed out and ground his hips.
"Will you look at me?" he pleaded, and when deep, dark eyes snapped to his, hazy and lustful and tender, the realization crashed, heavy and hard: he had a power over Cade that was not unlike the power Cade had over him. Together like this, they were caught in a spell, trapped in each other's orbit, reduced to their basest selves as greedy desire engulfed them. Like this, when they lay naked and exposed, defenses dissolved into nothingness, barriers fell, and all that remained were souls laid bare.
The knowledge unleashed a heady rush of elation and an awareness of this connection between them, so deep it wrapped around his heart, touched his very soul.
Cade's fingers dug into the meat of Tristan's hips while praise fell from his mouth, unguarded and honest. "Tris, oh god. You feel so fucking good."
Tristan studied Cade's blissed-out face and savored every sigh, every quiver, every flex of his fingers. He leaned back to plant his hands on meaty thighs, and the new angle perfectly stimulated his prostate.
"Oh, fuck, yes," Tristan breathed, bouncing up and down, faster and faster, his dick bouncing obscenely. "Cade, touch me, please."
When that large hand closed around his cock, Tristan nearly shot his load right then. Cade worked him over expertly, using pre-cum to ease the slide.
Tristan's hips matched the rhythm of those delicious strokes, and he climbed higher, lost now to everything except the tightening in his lower belly and the pursuit of that final trigger that would send him flying. Frantic now with desperation, he met Cade's eyes, saw them burn with intensity, then one well-timed twist of the wrist sent him hurtling into nirvana. Muscles clenching and vision blurring,Tristan let out a long, low groan as cum shot out in spurts and painted the striking canvas of Cade's abdominal muscles.
When he could see straight again, he met Cade's hooded eyes, and the man beneath looked like he was hanging on by a thread.
"Can I keep going?"
There it was again, that consideration that made him feel all warm and gooey. Leaning down for a messy, wet kiss, Tristan hummed his consent, and Cade began to thrust upwards again. Pulling back slightly, Tristan watched him fall apart, little by little, feeling desperate to see Cade come, to memorize every detail of his face and every subtle noise he made.
Cade's strokes became irregular, his hips twitched, and he spilled inside the condom with a low growl. Ignoring the pool of cum smeared between them, Tristan collapsed onto his chest and pressed their mouths together again, savoring Cade's taste and the heat of his mouth. Then he buried his face in the crook of Cade's neck and inhaled his scent, feeling boneless and tingly and somehow hopeful and melancholy at the same time.
He'd felt something pass between them when he'd asked Cade to look at him, something that felt real. But he didn't know if Cade felt it too and didn't dare push anymore at this point.
Though it would be hard, he'd just have to wait. The ball was in Cade's court now.
After a moment, when their ragged breathing eventually slowed, Tristan pushed himself up on his hands and eased himself off Cade, who watched him with a dazed expression. Tristan took care of the condom and got a damp washcloth from the bathroom, then returned to the bed to wipe off Cade's stomach as dark eyes tracked his movements.
"Did you want to shower?" he asked softly, and when Cade shook his head, Tristan climbed into bed beside him and propped himself up on one elbow, studying the other man intently.
Though he was pretty sure of the answer, Tristan wanted to hear the words. "Was it okay?"
Cheeks still flushed, Cade looked at him with a softness that nearly stole his breath.
"Yes," came the whispered, scratchy response.
Tristan's heart skipped a beat because that one word seemed to convey so much emotion, to reveal what Cade appeared determined to keep hidden.
He lifted a hand to one scruffy cheek, softly kissed Cade's lips, andthought there might still be a chance for them.
Chapter 17: Rescue
