Page 100 of The Art of Drowning

Nostalgic? Me? Never.

Always.

Callum’s relationship with his parents remained fractured. They tried a few times to bridge the gap, to make up for their bad decisions, but no amount of apologies made a dent in the hurt Callum had suffered. The last time they reached out, he blocked their numbers and then I held him as he cried.

He wasn’t crying now. Now he looked peaceful, like a fucking angel. And I got to keep him. I still couldn’t believe it sometimes.

Callum’s eyes fluttered open and he smiled at me. “You’re so cute,” he said in his thick, sleepy voice. His eyes fell shut again, but he reached for me, encouraging me to slide closer to him.

“You could move over you know,” I told him as I pressed my body against his and tangled our legs together.

“Mmm, but I’m so cozy.”

His hand skimmed up my arm, then across my shoulder until it settled in the curve of my neck. Callum drew me into a kiss that we tried to keep chaste, but Callum was an early morning kind of guy. And a late at night kind of guy. An all day guy, really. I kept waiting for the spark to die, but as time went on, it seemed that it only grew brighter and hotter.

As teenagers, sex had been rushed and good mostly because it was sex and orgasms were great. And then when we reunited, it was like a whole new world opened up. Every time we were together, we learned more about each other, which only improved the already inferno-hot sex. Because I knew where to touch him and how to drive him crazy.

My hand on his chest so I could play with his nipple. I knew that he liked it when I rolled him onto his back and kissed him until he was breathless and begging. He loved it when I pinned his arms above his head and teased my cock against his. He’d twist and swear and try—half-heartedly—to get away and when I’d let his wrists go, his hands would stay where I put them.

I did that this morning. Rolled him onto his back and kissed him until he was a crazy, whimpering mess.

“Please,” Callum begged.

“Not yet.”

He whined and I smiled as I kissed my way down his neck.

“Damien…” he whined again as I took his nipple in my mouth. “So mean,” he said as he writhed beneath me, coming more and more undone with every breath. Every twitch. It was like I could feel the threads of his restraint snapping one by one.

I devoured him. Licked and kissed and gently bit at his nipples, offering no friction to his needy, leaking cock. And then, with a growl, the last thread snapped and Callum brought his hands down. He cradled my face and pulled me up toward him. Strong legs wrapped around me, heels dug into my ass, and he half-pushed, half-pulled me up until his mouth was on mine and my cock was pressed against his.

Urgency flared between us, hot and bright. Callum moaned into my mouth, his body shuddering and twitching beneath me. “Damien… I’m fucking dying here. Please. Please.”

For so many years, I’d been a dedicated top and now, with Callum, I’d discovered the joy of bottoming again. But we also weren’t dedicated to either role and today it seemed that Callum needed me inside him. I knew the feeling. That aching emptiness that only he could fill. The pleasure that came from knowing that I was it for him, and he was it for me. And while neither one of us were perfect, we were perfect for each other.

I paused only long enough to reach for the lube from the nightstand. “How do you want it?” Sometimes Callum wanted me to tease him forever. To take my time opening him and stretching him, bringing him to the brink only to pull him back again.

“Fuck me.”

Callum stared up at me like I was the best thing he’d ever seen. The naked affection took my breath away, and I had to kiss him again. I slanted my mouth over his and indulged in a ravenous kiss as I ground my body against his.

I could get us off just like this. With nothing more than passionate kisses and a bit of friction. But that wasn’t what he wanted. It wasn’t what he needed. And I’d do anything for him.

He still whined when I stopped, even knowing shit was about to get a whole lot better.

“How do you want it?” I asked again, slicking my cock. I knew what he wanted, but I needed to hear him ask for it.

His eyes were glassy and his cheeks were rosy, and he was probably the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.

“Split me open.” Callum relaxed. Splaying his arms out to the sides, he let out a deep breath. “Split me open. Please.”

I put a finger to his lips to stop him from asking a third time and before the request sent me careening over the edge like an overeager virgin.

With my cock as slick as it was going to get, I slid my hands under his legs and rolled him up a little to give me better access. He gasped when I drizzled lube directly onto his hole.

“That’s cold.”

“It’ll warm up.” I spread the lube around with my fingertips, teasing his hole, his taint. I cupped his balls and watched his eyes roll into the back of his head.