“I’m real,” he promised. “And I’m not going anywhere.”
I believed him. God help me.
I kissed him again, pouring everything I couldn’t say into it. My hands roamed over his chest, his sides, mapping every inch of him like I was trying to memorize it all. He arched into my touch, his breathing getting heavier, and I could feel the tension building between us.
“Bedroom?” I suggested, already reaching for his belt.
“Too far,” he breathed, his own hands working at my jeans. “Right here is fine.”
I didn’t argue. I got his pants open and worked them down his hips, along with his boxers, until he was bare on the counter. He looked obscene like this, spread out in our kitchen, hard and wanting, his lips swollen from my kisses.
“Fuck,” I muttered, drinking in the sight of him. “You’re so goddamn beautiful.”
“Less talking,” he demanded, reaching for me. “More sucking.”
I laughed but obliged, dropping down and slipping his long, uncut cock into my mouth. He groaned, his fingers immediately threading through my hair as I took him deeper. The taste ofhim was familiar now, something I’d come to crave over the past weeks. I worked him slowly, using my tongue the way I’d learned he liked, and felt his thighs tremble on either side of me.
“Jesus, Nick,” he gasped, his grip tightening in my hair. “Your mouth is fucking perfect.”
I hummed around him, the vibration making him curse again. His hips started to move, shallow thrusts that I encouraged by gripping his ass and pulling him closer. The counter was the perfect height for this, and I made a mental note to thank whatever contractor had installed it.
I pulled off for a moment, stroking him with my hand instead. “You taste so good,” I said, meeting his dark eyes. “Could do this all day.”
“Don’t stop then,” he breathed, guiding my head back down.
I took him deep again, relaxing my throat the way he’d taught me. He let out a strangled moan that went straight to my cock, still trapped in my jeans. I was so hard it was starting to hurt, but I had an idea on how to fix that.
“Dante?” I asked, pulling off his cock with a pop. “Can we… try something new?”
He furrowed his brow. “Sure. Whatever you want.”
“Will… Will you fuck me?”
Silence stretched between us, Dante’s cock throbbing against my chin as I stared up at him.
“Are… Are you sure you want to do that?” he asked. “I don’t want you to feel obligated. That’s a big step…”
“I’m curious,” I replied, letting the words out before I choked them back. “The noises you make and the look on your face when I fuck you… it looks… well,amazing. And I kind of want to try it.”
I watched his pupils dilate, his chest rising and falling faster. The hand in my hair loosened, then slid down to cup my face with a tenderness that made my heart clench.
“You’re serious,” he breathed, searching my eyes.
“Yeah.” I pressed a kiss to his inner thigh, feeling the muscle jump under my lips. “I want to know what it feels like.”
He made a sound low in his throat, something between a groan and a whimper. “Nick, I...fuck, you can’t just say things like that when I’m already this worked up.”
“Is that a yes?” I asked, running my hands up his thighs.
“That’s a hell yes,” he said, his voice rough. “But we need to go slow. Really slow. And if you want to stop at any point?—”
“I know,” I interrupted, standing up and kissing him hard. “I trust you.”
Those three words seemed to undo something in him. He kissed me back with an intensity that stole my breath, his hands already working at my shirt, pulling it over my head. My jeans followed, and then we were both naked in the kitchen, pressed against each other, skin on heated skin.
“Bedroom,” he said, his voice commanding in a way that made my cock throb. “I’m doing this right.”
I let him lead me to the bedroom, my heart pounding so hard I could hear it in my ears. This was happening. I was really going to do this. The nervous energy in my stomach mixed with anticipation, creating a cocktail of emotions I’d never felt before.
