“You’re sexy when you get all righteous and sex-positive.”
“Yeah? And what am I the rest of the time?”
“You’re still distractingly sexy,” I murmured against the curve of his mouth, kissing him. “Unbelievably good.” My lips trailed down to the edge of his jaw. “You’re disarming in the best possible way.” My mouth continued its descent, brushing over his Adam’s apple. “You dismantle defenses, not with force, but with gentleness and that unique blend of steadfast strength and soft-hearted kindness of yours.” My hand slid down his chest, resting lightly over the beat of his heart. “You’re security, and safety. You’re the kind of man I always hoped to find.”
A flash of rare self-consciousness crossed Luke’s face. “And am I the kind of man you’d want to do that with?”
“To top, you mean?”
“Yes.”
“I’d like to. I haven’t had many chances to top, only a handful of times in college, but the thought of being inside you, of watching you come apart because of me, of bringing you to climax, makes me harder than steel.”
To prove my point, I rolled my hips. He released a ragged exhale, his hands tightening at my waist. Our cocks ground together through the layers of our clothes, the friction as divine as it was overwhelming.
He surged up, hands framing my jaw. His thumbs stroked my cheeks as his fingers slid toward the nape of my neck, drawing me into him. His mouth met mine with a consuming tenderness. Intent, attentive, kissing me the way he listened: fully present, learning every shift of my breath, every answer I offered him.
“How do you feel,” he murmured between kisses, “about making this a topless situation?”
“Very much on board,” I said, lifting my arms.
He peeled my shirt over my head, tossed it somewhere on the floor, then tugged his own off in one easy movement, my eyes catching on the scatter of hair across his chest and the dusky line down his abdomen.
“You’re so beautiful,” he said, his lips skimming my collarbone, drifting lower, brushing his nose against my sternum, while resuming his thrusting against me.
We moved in concert, grinding, rutting, and chasing the finale with abandon. Each thrust sent lightning lashing up my spine. His fingers tangled in my hair. His mouth found the curve of my neck and sucked.
A loud, helpless sound escaped me. It started as a moan but twisted into something else, overtaken by the sensation of being claimed and wanted, here and now, by Luke, of all people. By the time it reached my lips, it was no longer a moan but a pleading, wrecked whine.
Rhythm dissolved, losing all semblance of control. Our hips met in wild, discordant pulses, our bodies having long abandoned coordination in favor of raw desperation. Our mouths sought each other in intervals, the kisses broken by gasps and moans.
“I’m close. I . . . fuck,” I said.
“Me too,” he breathed, forehead pressing to mine. “Want to cum with you, Ollie.
A few more frantic thrusts and it hit, pleasure flooding through me. Galaxies were summoned into my occipital lobe, my vision fracturing into stars. Every atom in my body came undone and reassembled in the space of a single breath.
Luke came as I rode out the waves, the sharp intake of his breath melting into a low, shuddering moan as he buried his face against my neck.
Chapter 26
Luke
Oliver lay sprawled across my chest, breathing in and out against my skin. Which, ten out of ten, would recommend. His hair had that sexy-disaster thing going on, all tousled and touchable. His cheeks were flushed, his lips all kiss-swollen and shiny. We’d done that. Together. The sight, the thought, sent a burst of affection through me.
“Can you pinch me?” he asked, tracing the lines of ink on my arm.
“Pinch you?”
“Mm-hmm. I still can’t believe this is real. I keep waiting to wake up, to find out I imagined the whole thing. I’ve wanted this for so long.”
I kissed his head, obliging him with a gentle, teasing pinch to his side.
A sharp, undignified squeak burst from him as he bolted upright. “Hey!”
“You asked me to pinch you. I’m just delivering on the request.”
“I didn’t think you’d actually do it.”
