Another nod from Tate and a mumbled, “Yes.”
“And when you finally come apart around me and you feel me shooting my cum inside you, you’ll say my name, won’t you?”
Whatever Tate said next wasn’t even intelligible, but I had no trouble understanding him because his eyes had flipped open and he was nodding viciously.
“Say it now,” I suddenly demanded, the need to hear my name falling from his lips undeniable.
“Hawke,” he whispered harshly.
My heart seized up, but not in pleasure. I slowed my moves and released my hold on Tate’s ass so I could press all of my weight down on him. As badly as I needed to come, I needed something more from him, but I was terrified of what it meant. A flash of emotion shot through me as I realized I would demand it of him despite what it would cost me. Because I needed all of him in that moment. But more than that, I needed to be all of me.
Tate’s desire had eased enough that he was watching me in confusion. His hands were resting on the backs of my arms just above my elbows. I leaned down to kiss him and then cupped the sides of his face with my hands.
“Michael,” I whispered against his mouth.
Tate didn’t move or respond for the longest time. In fact, it felt like he was barely even breathing. But his eyes never left mine as he said, “Michael” in a barely-there voice.
“Again,” I demanded.
“Michael,” he said again, louder this time.
Pleasure flooded my entire body and I began thrusting my hips against his with ruthless precision.
“Again,” I ground out as I braced my hands next to his head so I could bear my own weight as I rolled my lower body over his in heavy, weighted drags.
“Michael,” he cried out, his voice growing more and more desperate. And after that, I didn’t have to command him to say my name anymore. With every exhale, he called to me and I gave him what he needed, what we both needed. Tate went over seconds before I did and I felt his nails dig into my back where he was holding onto me as he screamed my name and his cum drenched us both. My own orgasm ripped through me without mercy and I dropped all of my weight onto Tate and gathered him into my armsas I rode out the endless waves of pleasure. The climax was so forceful that it bordered on painful and it was several long minutes before the brutally strong aftershocks eased enough that I stopped grinding my hips against Tate’s. The roaring in my ears quieted enough to hear Tate still whispering my name.
I lifted my head enough to seal my lips over his in an unhurried kiss that was really just our lips pressed together for the few seconds between the deep breaths we were each sucking in to try to get our bodies back to some semblance of normal. I used my elbows to lift my weight up enough so I could run my fingers through Tate’s slickened hair. The blissful expression on his face was one I would remember for the rest of my life, but nothing compared to the equal parts of pleasure and pain that tore through me when he said “Michael” one last time before closing his eyes.
Michael.
The name I’d never allowed anyone but my wife to call me.
Chapter 16
TATE
I waited a very longtwenty minutes before I forced myself out of bed and padded over to the bathroom door. I felt childish with my ear up to the door trying to hear something…anything. I’d heard Hawke leave his bed, but hadn’t opened my eyes until I’d heard the bathroom door close. It wasn’t necessarily because I didn’t want to confront Hawke…no, it was more like I needed time to build up the suit of armor I would need to face him.
Because I had no doubt that despite our moving encounter the night before, Hawke had nothing but regrets. He hadn’t said that of course, and he hadn’t done anything overtly obvious, but I’d felt it in every touch, every move after he’d eased himself off of me. The guilt in his eyes had been a living, breathing thing and I’d known it had nothing to do with what we’d done.
Michael.
I’d loved saying it. I’d loved seeing the pleasure flood his eyes every time I had. I’d loved knowing I had a piece of him that I knew in my gut not everyone did.
But I hated that it was that part of the night before that he would have changed if he could. And I hated that I was beingmeasured against a dead woman who’d clearly deserved to be put on any pedestal her husband chose to put her on.
After the epic climax, I hadn’t been able to move and I hadn’t really wanted to despite the cooling cum all over my chest and abdomen. But the second Hawke had drawn me to my feet and sealed his mouth over mine, my body had started to come alive again. We’d ended up taking another shower together, but unlike the night before, Hawke’s touch had been quick and efficient and while his movements had still turned me on, I’d felt all the warmth from my lingering orgasm fade and be replaced by a bitter cold that had been a thousand times worse than any I’d ever experienced before.
Because I was losing Hawke…again. Even though I’d never really had him.
After the shower, we’d dried ourselves off and I hadn’t gotten a chance to taste Hawke again because he’d turned his back on me and crawled into his own bed, leaving me to the cool, empty sheets of mine. I’d managed to fall asleep at some point, but my brain had seemed to be even more hyper aware of Hawke than it had been before because I’d woken up every time he’d shifted in his bed. I’d given up trying to fall back asleep a couple of hours earlier and I’d spent the time trying to listen to the sound of Hawke’s breathing to see if he’d found the peace of sleep.
Once he’d disappeared into the bathroom, I’d waited for the shower to come on. It hadn’t. And then my disappointment had started to shift to concern.
Thus the standing in front of the door with my ear pressed up against it like a little kid. There was no sound of running water or a flushing toilet and I debated whether or not I shouldn’t just seek the safety of my own bed. After all, did I really want to hear Hawke tell me last night was a mistake? Did I want to accept that the promise he’d made to me was one more in a long line of broken ones?
I didn’t.
