“Do not be ashamed of what you feel,” I tell him. I implore him with my gaze and he tries to look away from me. With my free hand I grab his chin, pulling him closer by his cock. He lets out a sigh that goes straight to my own erection.
“Never apologize or be ashamed for what you feel.”
He grabs my chin, holding me still.
“I love you,” he says, the words so shaky and afraid I barely make them out. My entire body stills at those three words. I close my eyes, trying to push back the tears that want to erupt at those three perfect words.
“You can’t love me, Wesley,” I say, even though I long to scream from the top of my lungs, “I fucking love you, too!”
“But I do, Adrien. I love you. I love you so much it’s tearing me apart, and I?—”
I crush my lips to his, silencing his claims because I know they will do neither of us any good.
I can not let him do this. Can not let him drag me under again. I can’t?—
I roll on top of him as I kiss him, my hands moving deftly to remove his underwear. He lifts his hips, letting me take them off in haste as his hands make deft work of shoving my sweatpants down to my ankles.
With one hand I motion to grasp my nightstand with my fingers, but his hand stops mine in mid air. My hand shakes as he tears his mouth from mine and shakes his head.
“I want to feel it,” he murmurs, his lips finding my neck, fangs grazing my flesh.
“Wesley—” My voice shakes. “I don’t want to hurt you, I?—”
“Make me feel it, Adrien,” he whispers. “Please.”
I bite my lip, torn between what I know he’s asking, and what I should do.
“I want to feel what you can’t say,” he says, his breath warm on my skin. And at that moment, I know. He knows.
He’s always known, and that makes it hurt all the more.
He grasps my chin, forcing me to look in his cerulean gaze. For a moment, we stay like that, frozen in time, lost in the sea of one another’s rip tides.
And then I feel his hand wrap around my cock, I feel him shift underneath me, but he never takes his gaze off of me.
I should tell him I don’t love him. That would be the smart thing. A sacrifice for the greater good, his greater good.
Maybe then he would listen.
But I am not a smart man when it comes to Wesley Castor. Far from it. So when he guides the tip of my cock against his entrance, gazing up at me with those perfect irises and those exquisitely soft lips parted just so, I give in. I push inside him and he winces, and I stop, his body tensing.
“Keep going,” he says, grasping my neck.
“Baby—” The endearment slips out too easily and I curse myself.
“Keep. Going,” he bites, pulling me in for another harsh kiss. When our lips touch this time, he lifts his hips to meet me and I push in further. I still as he bites at my lip, but he doesn’t stop. He keeps moving, slowly thrusting himself against me until he takes a little more and I give in. I always give in, that’s the problem.
I hold onto him tight as I breach his resistance, bottoming out within seconds and for a moment we just lay there, entangled like ivy, growing together from separate corners of the world.
And all at once, as he kisses me, that vicious memory poisons me. Of his lips onhers.Of the heated, passionate way in which he kissed her.
I kiss him harder, one hand grasping his throat as I try to fight them. I pull back and thrust into him harder than I should. He gasps against my mouth, but he doesn’t tell me to stop. Instead, he pushes against me, wrapping his legs around my waist as I continue to pour myself into him.
Choose me, Wesley. Please…
I shove the thought aside, knowing it’s moot. He’s already slipping from my grasp and it’s best I let him go.
The memory of her lips returns to my psyche, of how close she’d been tomylips. It juxtaposes with his, and his heated kiss. His hands rove over my sides, but all I can see in my brain is his hands sliding overher. Over her hips, her ass. I thrust into him once more, hard enough the bed squeaks.
