Raider groans. “Fuck. I’m close. Stroke yourself through your pants. Slowly, gorgeous.”
That’s all Rune can take. He doesn’t even manage to reach beneath his waistband, and his own palm is an afterthought in the blaze of Raider’s voice. Desperation shatters through him, and Rune comes with a strangled cry.
Raider echoes him with a groan. “Fuck, Rune, did you just come?”
“Yeah,” Rune breathes.
“Fuck, that’s so hot. I need another minute—talk to me?”
Rune falls back against the bed, every inch of skin too sensitive. His cock softens slowly. “I don’t know what to say, but I’ll try. You made me feel so good.” Once again, Rune’s words are rusty. Inadequate. “I wish I could make you feel that good too.”
“You’re doing a damn good job.” Raider’s voice is tight and rough and so present around Rune. “You sound so fucking sweet.”
The praise is so warm and overwhelming, the edges of Rune’s vision shimmer. “I like when you say things like that,” Rune confesses softly. “I want to be good.”
Raider answers with a quiet sound. A beat of silence. Then a gasp. The mattress creaks.
“Did you come?” Rune’s own pulse pounds harder, his cock stirring at the thought. Next time he’ll ask Raider for pictures. He’s so greedy for more.
Greedy enough to hope for a next time.
“Yeah, I came.” Raider sounds content. Maybe even smug. “I could listen to your voice all night, sweet thing. You sound even better than I thought you would, and my expectations were pretty fucking high.”
Rune curls up, clutching the phone to his ear, as Raider rattles off more praise. Each sweet word sinks into Rune’s soul,touching him on a deeper, more primal level than anything else they’ve done tonight.
Until Raider pauses for breath. “Hey, Rune?”
“Yes?”
“I want to do this again,” Raider says, which makes Rune’s heart soar. “Can I see you in person?”
Rune freezes, then shatters.You can’t,he tries to say, but his throat chokes on it.I can’t.
He hangs up.
6
The silence brings Raider back into reality—sprawled bonelessly on his bed, jeans around his thighs. His pile of clean laundry isn’t clean anymore. Sweat dampens his brow. Raider’s mind is still so muddled that he probably hung up on accident.
Except when Raider calls back, Rune hangs up without answering. And Raider replays everything he just said.
Can I see you in person?
Fuck.
Regret shreds Raider’s postcoital wishful thinking. Hiking his jeans back up, he jumps out of bed to uselessly pace his bedroom. His heart races as he calls again.
This time, the call rings out, neither answered nor declined, for five minutes before falling silent. Not a good sign. But it’s better than an immediate rejection, and Raider seizes onto his pathetic, desperate hope to call a third time.
Rune rejects it on the third ring.
Raider flings his phone onto the bed before he does something stupid like call a fourth time. Dragging his clean hand over his face, he mutters, “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” over and over.
Rune had one boundary. One very clearly defined boundary. And Raider had to fucking push it, right after Rune offered up the best phone sex of Raider’s life.
Quite possibly the best sex of Raider’s life, period.
Rune sounded even better than Raider imagined. He responded so beautifully to Raider’s every word, and Raider is a greedy man. He wants so much more. He wants to sink his fingers into Rune’s tight little ass. Shove all those baggy shirts and sweaters up his chest, explore every perfect inch of him.
