“Law, I—”
“Yeah,” I assure him, understanding instantly the worry in his voice. “It’s real fucking good. Don’t stop what you’re doing.”
“There you go again,” he says, his words panted out around his breaths. “Swearing.”
“Fuck,” I say again, knowing he’ll appreciate it.
His answering chuckle is raspy, his head settling beside my own in a way that feels more intimate than anything else we’re doing. I can hear every hitch of his breath and the grunting moans he’s trying hard to keep quiet. But not quiet enough. They’re masculine, familiar even, although new in this context.
I don’t know how to tell him—ifI should tell him—it’s the sexiest thing I think I’ve ever heard.
His cock is filling me to the brim, stretching me, every inch of me touched, every nerve ending sparking and a desperation eating at the edges of my mind I’ve never felt before. It’s not the urge to finish but the fear I might never have this again.
Oakley doesn’t slow, his body fitting to mine in a way that feels utterly right, for oncerightand so fucking blissful I want to weep with it. I’m fighting a losing battle. I know I am. There’s no cajoling needed for my body to ride the razor’s edge. I’m there already, and I’m going to fall whether or not I want to. Even if I don’t want to.
I slip my hand down between me and the bed, aiming for my cock, but Oakley beats me to it, his warm fist wrapping around me, slick still from lube.
“If you needa come, you tell me,” he demands, stroking me in time to the thrust of his hips. “You let me take care of you.”
I don’t have a single argument against that, and when Oakley changes the angle of his hips, I cry out, realizing he was holding back before. The new glide has him driving against my prostate with ruthless intent, and there’s not a thing I can do but clamp down on his dick as every single muscle in my body tenses to the point of pleasured pain.
I’ve had orgasms before. Of course I have. By my own hand or with my ex-wife.
But not a one of them robbed me of breath the way this one does. It doesn’t end, Oakley’s cock making it go on and on, my body shaking with it, my knees losing purchase on the ground. Oakley’s grip keeps me steady, his arm around my waist, his other hand jerking me off against his comforter until I’m fairly certain I can’t keep coming and survive.
He gentles his grip when I let out a weak protest, the man himself jolting against me as he fills the condom. His stubble bristles my shoulder again, his breath hot on my skin, his stuttered inhalation barely reaching my ears over the pounding of my pulse.
We stay that way, neither of us moving except for the heaving of our chests, Oakley’s hand still loosely cradling my cock and his body surrounding mine like a cocoon.
His voice comes after long minutes, rough and questioning. “Okay?”
My lips press tightly together, my eyes stinging even as I try my best to blink away the impending tears.
Am I?
“No.”
Chapter 12
Oakley
I freeze the moment the word leaves Lawson’s mouth.No.
“Law…”
“Don’t move,” he says before I can do just that. “I just…” He pulls in a breath, the wobble in his voice ratcheting my alarm. “I… I don’t think I’m bi, Oak.”
The vise that tightens around my chest is instantaneous, remorse following like a slap to my entire being. The cloud I’d been floating on disperses into nothingness, and I’m left falling from a great height. I shift backwards, readying myself to apologize, to ask if he’s okay, if I hurt him, if he needs space, if there’s anything I can do.
But Lawson grabs my hip, much as he did earlier, keeping me as close as he can. “Oak. Please.”
God.
My cock slips from Lawson’s body, but I don’t try another retreat. “Are you all right? Fuck, Law. I’m so—”
Mysorrynever makes it past my lips, Lawson’s own words interrupting me. “I’m…gay.”
I still,wondering if I heard him right. “What?”
