“Likea cat. I mean it complimentarily! Because your attention and touch are only for those patient enough to wait for your consent to offer those things on your terms. And because you’re smart. And soft.” Milo reached out to run his fingers through Rowan’s short ginger beard.
It hadn’t always been as thick as it was currently, but he’d been letting it grow in more. It felt nice to have Milo scratch his fingers through it.
“I’m sorry.” Milo just as swiftly pulled his hand away. “I guess I am not very patient.”
Milo backed up and started to lean down. Rowan looked to see Spot still bumping into the chair despite her rotations, trying to get free of the spokes. Instinctively, Rowan reached down in the same moment that Milo did, and their fingers brushed, causing a faint shock of static electricity.
Milo gasped, and when Rowan looked up at him, his cheeks seemed almost flush with color, and his lips were parted slightly, making him look more delectable than anything warming on the stovetop might be.
They reached again, each taking a different side of Spot, and lifted her, turning her the other direction so she had plenty of space to continue forward in her efforts to clean the floor.
Once they had both straightened, Milo blurted, “I wish to be sexually intimate with you again.”
Okay. Rowan probably should have seen that coming.
“I do want to be patient for you,” Milo continued, “but it was such a wonderful feeling. I want to experience it again. I want to experience more. With you.”
“Milo—”
“I know you want me to better understand myself, and I do. I have learned so much already. I don’t need to learn anything else to know that I truly, genuinely want this. I want you, Rowan. Please. Don’t deny me for my sake, unless you do not want me anymore.”
Wow. Rowan felt so incredibly foolish. Was he really being distant and pushing away another potential partner, this time one who was arguably perfect for him, and who was literally begging to be with him? “You really are almost human now, aren’t you?”
Milo’s desperate expression drooped further. “Is the almost part bad? Is that why you no longer wish to touch me?”
“No.” Rowan sat forward and grasped Milo’s hands. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Then please…” Milo was apparently taking Rowan’s initiative to touch him as the permission he had been waiting for and climbed into Rowan’s lap, rolling the wheely chair back against the table. “Let me connect with you again.”
“Here?” Rowan sputtered.
“It would be worthwhile to be with you anywhere.”
The weight of Milo was the same as a human man, solid and grounding and a huge turn-on, especially when he pulled his hands from Rowan’s grasp and pressed them to Rowan’s chest. Milo bucked forward within his straddle, so warm, so tellingly hard already too, even through his jeans, that Rowan had never been happier to have gotten an armless chair for this room.
Grabbing either side of Milo’s face, Rowan dragged him down into a kiss.
Milo bucked forward again, and the wheely chair rocked away from and then back against the desk like before. Still keeping one hand on Milo to dig his fingers into Milo’s hair and pull him closer as he delved for Milo’s tongue, Rowan reached blindly with the other to find the lock beneath the seat. He pulled it to prevent them from rolling across the floor, then returned to lick deeper inside Milo’s mouth, while pulling his hips tighter against him too.
Milo began feverishly rocking, panting into Rowan’s mouth like he was short of breath. Hecouldn’tbe short of breath, yet the effect of him sounding breathless pulsed Rowan to full mast, straining against his slacks. He needed them gone, needed to feel Milo’s skin against his.
When was the last time Rowan had been with someone who kissed him back like this? Had he ever been? Certainly not when he was with the Milo before the lightning. Before, the bot had always been able to understand pressure, wetness, timing, but it was so clinical and dispassionate.
This was far from lacking passion.
“Oh, Rowan… please keep doing that.” Milo spoke between renewed kisses, hands moving to the hem of Rowan’s shirt and sliding up his stomach and chest beneath it.Yes. Skin contact was so much better.
“Doing what?” Rowan asked, though he was careful to not do anything different from what he had been doing.
“That. Holding my head while you kiss me,” Milo whimpered, only to suck on Rowan’s tongue afterward, preventing any follow-up.
Rowan understood and kept his fingers tangled in Milo’s platinum locks, palm gently massaging where he cradled the back of his head. The strands of Milo’s hair were like woven silk.Rowan could remember the way the longer strands felt brushing his inner thighs.
He bucked up against Milo, and Milo whined in a way he never could have a few days ago, so happy and needy and alive.
“Yes. I like that. I likethis.”
“So do I, but I need both of our pants offright now.”
