I give a shallow thrust, giving him time to adjust, but his dark eyes bore into mine, daring me to give him everything I’ve got. My dick twitches in his mouth at the challenge, and he hums, sending a zing of pleasure straight to my balls.
Muttering a curse, I push him down, impaling him on my length. He’s clearly trained his gag reflex. It’s so fucking hot.
I hold him against my groin before letting him up for a few shallow breaths, then push him down again.
The tears pooling in his eyes turn me on even more—he doesn’t squeeze my thigh, so I don’t stop—and when one slips from beneath his mask to roll down his cheek, I catch it with my thumb and bring it to my lips. His resulting groan has my balls drawing up, my impending release building.
My thrusts become jerky, and I release his hair, dropping my hands to the couch as he continues to work me. An electric charge builds at the base of my spine, causing my heart to damn near explode. He swipes his tongue over my slit, then sucks me deep, breathing through his nose, and bracing for the moment I spill down his throat with a muffled cry.
True to his word, he swallows every last drop.
When I’m completely spent, he tucks me inside my boxers and climbs up my body, bracing his knees on either side of my waist.
I grip his hips as he kisses me deep and hard, his erection grinding against my dick. There’s no running away this time. Regardless of whatever is going on in his life outside these walls, he’s finding himself here. With me.
His groin rubs out a punishing pace as we make out, and my hand slides down the back of his jeans to squeeze his arse. He moans into my mouth, and I swallow the sound, working my finger between his cheeks. His head drops back as I bite down on his throat and rub my finger over his hole.
He trembles in my arms, groaning as his body goesrigid, and I grin when he slumps against me—he’s just blown his load in his boxers. He nuzzles into the crook of my neck, his breaths shallow, and I close my eyes, relishing how good he feels in my arms.
All good things have to come to an end, though.
As his breathing returns to normal, he pulls back and presses his mouth to mine, smiling against my lips.
“Fuck,” he groans, shifting off my lap to collapse onto the couch next to me. “I haven’t blown in my pants like that since I was a teenager.”
I chuckle, rolling my head to the side to look at him. “How old are you, anyway?”
He hesitates, and I wonder if he’ll freak out over me asking something that could identify him, but we live in a town with a university that boasts a student population of over ten thousand. For all I know, he doesn’t even attend Beckford U. He’s ripped. Maybe he’s a tradie and didn’t take the higher education route.
“Twenty-three,” he finally says. “You?”
“Twenty-two.”
He smirks. “So, I’m older, huh?”
I roll my eyes. “I’m clearly wiser.”
He shoves my shoulder before leaning in for another kiss. When he pulls away all too soon, he shifts in his seat and grimaces. “I need to clean up.”
I tense, realising this is where his conscience sets in and he leaves me again.
As if realising what I’m thinking, he reaches for my hand. “I’m not freaking out on you, I promise. I may not be ready to scream my sexuality from the rooftops, but someone told me tonight that I’m in charge of my life, no one else. They can all have their opinions, but eventually, they’ll have to accept me for who I am and what I want.”
My chest tightens. “Profound.”
He grins. “Yeah. It won’t be easy erasing all the bullshit still going on in my head, but at least I can be who I want to be at Euphoria.”
“Yeah, you can.” I stifle a yawn and check my watch, my eyes widening when I see its almost midnight.
Fuck, Cinderfella’s about to turn into a pumpkin.
I lean in and kiss him. “Go clean yourself up, Shadow, but I have to go. I have a big…” I pause, realising I’m about to tell him about soccer, but I can’t give away my identity. Not just yet. “I have something on tomorrow, and I need to get some sleep.”
Disappointment reflects in his eyes, but he nods. “Yeah, sure. Of course. I actually should get home, too.”
“Are you coming back next month?” I ask, curiosity getting the best of me.
“Yeah. Maybe we could…” His voice trails off, uncertainty lacing his tone.
