“Completely,” I rasped, my voice raw. “Fuck—Morgan—” My voice broke.
He didn’t stop. His tongue swirled around my nipple before his teeth closed on it, just shy of painful. My cock ached, trapped in my jeans, and I fumbled for the button, but Morgan batted my hands away.
“No,” he murmured. “Let me.”
I groaned, my head falling back as his fingers finally popped the button open, then his hand was inside, wrapping around my cock, stroking me through the damp fabric of my briefs. I choked on a gasp, my hips jerking up into his touch.
“Look at you,” he breathed, his thumb pressing down on the head of my cock, right where the fabric was darkest. “So beautiful.”
“Morgan, please—” I begged, my voice cracking.
He didn’t make me wait. His fingers hooked into the waistband of my briefs and yanked, freeing my cock. The cool air hit my overheated skin, and then his hand was back, his strokes slow and deliberate. I whimpered, clawing at the sheets, my hips lifting into each drag of his fist, his touch maddeningly light.
“More,” I gasped.
His mouth was on me, his tongue lapping at the head of my cock, tasting me. I cried out, my back bowing off the bed, my fingers tangling in his hair. He took his time, his lips wrapping the crown, his tongue swirling, teasing, before he took me deeper, his throat opening around me.
“Oh god—” My voice was a wreck, my thighs trembling. I could feel the way his free hand gripped my hip, holding me down, keeping me still as he bobbed his head, his lips sealed around the base of my cock. The wet, obscene sounds filled the room, and I could see the way his own cock jerked, leaking, untouched.
My orgasm barrelled through me, and he swallowed every drop. I hauled him up, crashing our mouths together, and he gasped into the kiss, his lips slick.
“Your turn,” I growled, flipping us again in one swift motion. His back hit the mattress with a thud, his eyes wide. I didn’t give him time to protest. My hand wrapped his cock, stroking him hard, my thumb swiping over the slick head.
His breath hitched, his hips shuddering up into my touch. “Cole—fuck?—”
“I’ve got you,” I murmured, leaning to bite his nipple, my free hand sliding down to cup his balls, rolling them gently. “Just like this. Just like?—”
His cock pulsed in my grip, his back arching, and then he was coming, his release spilling over my fingers, hot and thick. His mouth fell open in a silent cry, his body trembling beneath me, and I watched, mesmerized, as he shattered.
When he finally collapsed back to the sheets, breathing hard, I brought my hand to my mouth, licking his come from my fingers, my eyes locked on his.
His gaze darkened, his lips parting. “Wow,” he breathed.
I grinned, wiping my hand on the sheet before reaching for his waist, dragging him toward me.
“I love you, Morgan,” I said.
And he went still.
FIFTEEN
Morgan
He loves me?
I waited for denial to slam into me, for panic to grip me, and tell me this was too fast, too much, a mistake I’d wake up from with my heart in my throat. I waited for the old instincts to kick in—for the urge to jerk away, to joke it off, to put distance between us before I could be hurt.
None of that happened.
What I felt instead was warmth. Simple. Steady. Like something settling into place rather than blowing my life apart.
“Yes,” Cole said, like it wasn’t a cliff edge, like it was just the truth. He tugged me closer, firm and gentle at the same time, until I was tucked under his chin, his arm heavy around my shoulders. Everything about him was heat and closeness and that lazy, sated happiness that came after your body stopped shaking and your mind finally caught up. Sticky. Relaxed. Safe.
“But you don’t have to say it back yet,” he added, mouth brushing my hair. “Although,”—there was a smile in his voice—”I will absolutely wear you down. You should know that.”
I laughed, breathless, my fingers curling into his T-shirt. “You don’t have to wear me down,” I said, because the wordswere already there, fully formed, waiting. I tilted my head back just enough to look at him. “I love you too.”
The look on his face—shock, then something bright and disbelieving—made my chest ache in the best possible way. He pulled me closer, as if he needed to check I was real, his arms tightening just enough to be sure.
