Plastered against me he is, every shift and quiver of his body echoes through mine, and when he thrusts his hips, a half desperate, needy movement that grinds his erection along my thigh, I let out a low, deep sound, stifled by the hungry heat of his mouth as my teeth sink into the softness of his lower lip. My own dick is every bit as hard as his, straining at my jeans as I grind back into him, my hands guiding his hips to follow in a movement that drags a moan from both of us.
Panting out another laugh, Tristan breaks away, his gasping breaths heavy and shivering as he skates his lips over the sensitive skin of my neck, making my hips buck against him as my inhale catches in my throat. “You sure this isn’t too fast for you, sunshine? We can take things slower if you—”
Warmth, totally separate from the hot tension radiating through me, fills my chest at his words. He’s not teasing, not laughing at me. He’s checking in; making sure I want this.
Making sureIwant this?
Jesus fuck—
“Fuck slow,” I groan as he rolls his hips, lighting my body with a flash of heat and arousal and pleasure so intense that, for a moment, I freeze, afraid that if he does it again or if I move against him, I’ll come here and now.
“Mmmm, you fucking me nice and slow sounds good to me.” He lets out a breathless laugh as I groan, partly at his terrible joke, and partly at how my dick jumps and leaks at the words. Because, underneath the teasing I’d definitely heard in his voice this time, there’s no mistaking that he meant what he said.
With one last evil grin up at me, he leans in to close his lips around the skin he’s just been exploring, sucking and licking at the base of my throat until I’m gasping and dizzy with the sensation and have to push him gently away to try to pull myself together.
He lets me go, but the sight of him as he takes an unsteady step back, black hair tousled, pupils blown huge in his hooded eyes, lips slick and swollen, parted to take in his panted, shallow breaths that match my own, does nothing to help.
And because I can’t stop myself, my eyes drift down over his heaving chest, down between us to the outline of his dicktenting those damn sweats of his.
I want this.
Ineed this.
Jesus fucking Christ I wanthim—Every cell in my body is alive and burning with desire, more intense and desperate than anything I’ve ever felt.
“Bed.” I’d meant the word as a question, if I’d even meant to say it at all, only it catches in my throat, coming out low and growly. A command, not a request.
Tristan’s eyes go wide, and for a moment, I’m terrified he’s offended or maybe even afraid. The next moment though, he lets out a quiet sound, a needy, breathy whine, his dick twitching visibly beneath his sweats.
This time, it’s without a doubt me that collides with him as I consume his mouth, letting one hand slip down his hip to grab the taut roundness of his ass as the other does what I’d imagined that first day I saw him, taking a fistful of the silky warmth of his hair and pulling, just hard enough to tip his head back for better access as we stagger across the small distance to my bed.
“Fucking yes—” Or at least I think that’s what he gasps against my lips.
Whatever he says, the breathless, wrecked sound of his voice is the hottest thing I think I’ve ever heard.
I can feel the hammering beat of my pulse racing through every inch of my body as I gracelessly tumble us onto the bed, pinning Tristan to the mattress. He lets his legs fall open around my hips as he arches up to grind against me, and without thought or hesitation, driven by the need to feel him better, free of the rough confinement of my jeans, I reach between us, jerking open my snap and zipper and struggling topull them off.
As I work, Tristan’s hands join mine. His lips kiss their way over my neck again until, even less gracefully than I toppled us down onto the bed, I’m kicking out of the stiff material, sinking back down onto him.
With only the thin barrier of my boxers and his sweats between us, my dick slots perfectly alongside his as I crash back down on him, licking back into his mouth as he opens to me. Just the sensation of his hardness pressed along mine is so intense that I can’t keep from rocking my hips against his, drunk on his quiet moans that hum against my lips and around my tongue.
Desire drowns out nearly every coherent thought, leaving nothing beyond sensation and need and the heavy panting of our breath. Too soon, I can feel the pressure of a threatening orgasm starting to build as my balls tighten, sending shocks of pleasure through me at every movement.
Jesus, it really has been too long—
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I know I want to strip him bare, see his gorgeous body, not halfway hidden by a towel like it was earlier tonight, but laid out for me to linger over. I’m not ready for this to be even partway done. Nor do I want to come all over the inside of my boxers like I’m going to if I don’t stop.
And then I freeze up. Every function of my brain and every movement of my body totally and completely shut down as paralyzing guilt washes through me, so overwhelming that for one horrible second, I’m sure I’m going to be sick. All over the gorgeous, perfect man who’s only now just realizing that, instead of continuing kissing and touching him back like any fucking normal human would, I’ve gone stiff everywhere Ishouldn’t be stiff and limp everywhere I shouldn’t be limp.
Squeezing my eyes shut and forcing myself to breathe, I roll off of him, dizzy from the deafening pound of my pulse thundering through my ears.
I can’t—
“Hey, you okay, sunshine?”
I blink my eyes open again, realizing suddenly that Tristan’s no longer on his back but sitting, a good couple feet away from me. That his arms are yet again in that defensive, crossed position, wrapped around his chest.
“Look, I’m sorry if I pushed things— I thought—”
