I was about to spread the towels when Mads hip-checked me to the side. “I’ll do it.”
I stood back and watched him meticulously cover the entire couch from top to bottom before lowering himself provocatively onto one elbow like some wanton hussy in a B-grade movie. When he crooked his finger at me, it was all I could do not to laugh.
“Hold that thought.” I ran for Mads’ workbench, returning with his black-rimmed glasses. I slid them into place, stoodback, and drank my fill. “Jesus Christ.” I ran a hand over my mouth and drew a shuddering breath. “You look... you look—damn.”
Mads swept his hand from head to toe. “Like what you see, huh?”
I crawled onto the couch and he rolled onto his back beneath me. “You have no idea how much Ilovewhat I see.” I took his face in my hands and kissed him, long and slow, our tongues tangling, our bodies pressed together, his heart pounding against mine. I could only hope I’d last long enough to satisfy him.
Mads leaned back and eyed me quizzically. “Something wrong?”
I huffed. “Other than feeling like I’m sixteen and jerking off my first guy behind the school gym, all fingers and thumbs and with no idea what the fuck I’m doing, no, there’s nothing wrong.”
He laughed. “I’m making you nervous. Wow. That’s a first.”
It was worth an eye roll, so I gave him one. “Nervous, a little. But mostly hot, bothered, and desperate to make this good for you.”
He leaned in and kissed me softly, the tip of his tongue tracing the contour of my lips. “The man I love is about to fuck me.” He breathed the words into my open mouth. “And there is no way in hell it’s going to be anything less than spectacular, because it’s us, baby. You and me. And I’ve been waiting for this for a long time.” He reached for the lube and got up on his knees, turning to make sure I had a front row seat of him prepping himself.
I could scarcely breathe, my cock so hard it was painful.
Mads winked at me over his shoulder. “How’re you doing back there?”
I felt myself blushing, for fuck’s sake. I scuttled forward, removed his fingers from his arse, and replaced them with myown. “Like I said—” I crooked them, making him groan. “—you talk too much.”
He dropped his head to the cushion, leaving his arse in the air, and me, plenty of room to work. It didn’t take long until he was begging for a lot more than a couple of fingers. When all I did was chuckle, he grumbled, pulled himself free, and flipped onto his back with his legs spread.
Happy to take direction, I slicked my cock and wriggled between his knees.
“Hurry up,” he grumbled.
“Soon.” I silenced his whining with a kiss, marvelling at the softness of his lips and the miracle that this amazing man was all mine. I kissed him slowly, taking my time, revelling in his taste, and the fierceness of desire that never failed to light me up.
I traced a line of kisses down his chest and belly to his cock. Then I swallowed him down, my fingers finding a home in his arse once again. He moaned and thrust into my mouth, making me gag. He didn’t apologise, didn’t pull out, didn’t hesitate to do it again. I loved giving head and Mads knew it. The messier, the harder, the better it was for me.
But Mads was too close for me to take my time, and pretty soon he was hauling me up by my ears. “Act two, scene one,” he puffed. “Man puts dick in other man’s arse and goes for it.”
I laughed. “Are you comfortable this way?”
“Yes,” he whispered, eyes drunk with need. “I want to see your face when you’re inside me.”
He’d read my thoughts. I stuffed a cushion under his hips and nudged my cock against his hole.
He hooked a leg up over my hip, groaned, and dropped it again, grumbling, “Not as young as I used to be.”
I fought a grin. “Need some ibuprofen?”
He narrowed his eyes. “Shut your damn mouth.” He tried again, around my thighs this time, and with better luck. “Now, where were we?”
“Right about... here.” I pressed against his hole and breached the rim, feeling a pop as the tight ring of muscle gave way. I paused, watching his face, his teeth scraping over his bottom lip as his eyes rolled back in his head.
Mads was right. We weren’t as young as we used to be. But my body craved his in a way that made little sense of age. I hungered for the feel of his soft hands on my body. The smooth touch of a man who’d spent his life working with books, caressing them, mending and gilding them, coaxing beauty from paper and leather the same way he’d coaxed it from my own broken heart. Helping me not just to live again, but to love again. To find purpose and joy... with him.
“How you doing?” I checked.
He nodded with a grimace, breathing through the burn. “It’s been a minute, okay. Just keep going... slowly.”
I snorted and did as he said, the vice-like grip around my cock threatening to push me over the edge before I’d even bottomed out. Almost there, I paused to give him a breather, but he took my arse in both hands and pulled me deeper, hotter, tighter. Until everything around us disappeared, leaving just Mads and me and those few centimetres of electric connection where we became one.
