Page 49 of From Beijing, With Love

At that moment, Yang wanted to give Daniel everything and promise him the world, but he couldn’t do that. Instead, he wound his fingers through Daniel’s hair, feeling their soft waves between his fingers while tasting the lingering note of wine on the tip of Daniel’s tongue. He wanted to drink Daniel in, but he made himself pull away. He needed to see Daniel’s face, to know that he wanted this too.

“You are so beautiful.” Yang’s words came out in a hoarse whisper as he met those hazel eyes, hazy with wanting. Daniel smiled as his lips trailed from Yang’s jaw to his cheekbone, then his earlobe, leaving hot imprints behind like he was branding Yang.

In a way, he was.

“What is it that you want?” Daniel’s words flowed out in a breathy tickle against Yang’s ear like he was sharing a secret rather than eliciting a confession.

“You.”

The single word was deafening in the silence of the room. Daniel pulled away, and a paralyzing fear coursed through Yang. Had he just ruined everything?

Then Daniel’s mouth came crashing onto his like that single word had breathed new life into him.

Yang gripped the soft fabric of Daniel’s T-shirt, pushing it up as he straddled him. Bucking his hips, Daniel gave Yang a first-class seat to exactly how much he wanted Yang in return. Yang felt his own erection straining painfully against the pajama pants and groaned into Daniel’s mouth. “Can I touch you?”

“I thought you’d never ask—” Daniel’s words were muffled as Yang pushed his T-shirt up and over his head. There was no grace to it, with the T-shirt catching on Daniel’s arm and a seam ripping.

Yang spent a moment appraising Daniel’s body, wanting to touch everywhere but not knowing where to start. Daniel could have been sculpted out of marble, from his broad shoulders to his defined chest, down to the V-shaped muscles that ran diagonally down from his hip bone.

Daniel threw a hand over his eyes and gave a small laugh. “Do I look okay?”

“Okay is not the word I’d use,” Yang said with a shaky voice. How could someone that looked like Daniel hold so much self-doubt? He pushed a stray strand of hair away from Daniel’s forehead, something he had wanted to do for a while now. “Shagua, you have no idea the effect that you have on me.”

“Is calling me a stupid melon your idea of sexy talk?” Daniel smiled, crimson spreading across his cheeks.

“Is it working?” Yang raised Daniel’s hand to his lips and kissed each fingertip before planting his lips to the palm.

“Not at all,” Daniel said, though his body showed otherwise.

“Really?” Yang leaned down and buried his mouth on Daniel’s clavicle before pressing his own eagerness into Daniel’s abdomen. He needed Daniel to know how much he wanted him.

Daniel raised his hips in return, his hand moving down Yang’s body and tugging at the elastic band of his pants.

Yang grabbed Daniel’s wrist. “Don’t.”

Daniel froze.

“Just not yet. Let me …” Yang whispered.

He’d lose himself far too soon if Daniel touched him right then.

Yang pressed Daniel into the soft bed while his hands explored every inch of Daniel’s body, feeling every muscle respond to his touch. Freeing Daniel from his pajama pants, Yang’s hand met burning skin.

“Fuck,” Daniel moaned as Yang wrapped a hand around his cock. He loved how hard Daniel was for him. He let go after a few teasing pumps, drawing a groan from Daniel.

“Patience,” Yang teased, even though he could hardly keep his own voice steady. Raising his hand to his mouth, he spat in it and felt Daniel’s body tremble at the sound and the suggestion of what was to come.

Yang’s hand once again found Daniel’s erection. He stroked it rhythmically. The sound of skin moving against skin combined with Daniel’s barely contained moans was lurid in the quietness of the room. The sight of Daniel laid out on the bed, with one hand bunched around the bedsheet, was almost enough to make Yang come. He couldn’t believe he was able to do this, to have Daniel arch and writhe under his touch.

While his hand continued its work, Yang dove down and kissed Daniel, who moaned words like “Fuck,” “Please,” and “Don’t stop” into his mouth. His own erection was beyond painful now. Deciding to stop torturing Daniel—and himself—he quickened his pace.

“Fuck, Yang … I’m going to …”

Yang’s name was on Daniel’s tongue as Daniel came loudly, all over Yang’s hand and his own stomach.

Seeing Daniel splayed out underneath him, spent, covered in his own come, Yang could hardly bear it. He reached for his own erection, needing the release.

“Let me.” Daniel reached for him when he seemed to have come back down to earth.