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The kiss is chaos, all sharp breaths and tangled limbs. It’s a fight, a collision, and a hunger that consumes us both.

I can’t let go, and neither can he. His hand stays locked around my shoulder while the other moves through my hair, down my chest, across my waist.

I reach between us and push down his sweatpants, making us both groan when our hard dicks rub against each other through our boxer briefs. My hand fumbles a little as I shove mine lower, and just like that, I’m embarrassingly leaking all over myself.

Fuck. I want him that much.

Looking at Rowan like this fills me with a kind of awe I genuinely don’t know what to do with.

“You’re killing me here, little mouse,” I breathe against his lips, pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it aside.

“You make it difficult not to get nervous.” His whisper shakes as he tears mine off next.

“Mm.”

That’s all I’ve got, because now his chest is bare below me and my brain has completely short-circuited.

I’ve touched Rowan before. I’ve felt him come apart beneath my hands in the pool and in the dark, breathless and shaking against me, but this is different. This isn’t stolen. This is Rowan letting me look.

Golden morning light spills across his bare chest, catching on the faint scar near his heart and the pale marks sleep left behind. For once, all the sharp edges of him look softer.

His gaze locks on me, brow furrowing deeper with every second, no doubt because of what he sees inked across my skin.

Then his hands slide over me, tracing every tattoo and line with slow, relentless touches. He’s not tentative anymore, but there’s still something searching in the way he explores me, like he’s memorizing me piece by piece. He plays with these hands the way other people breathe. I've watched him do it across a hall for months. Having them on me now feels like a category error, something built for one purpose being used for another and liking it.

“You have so many tattoos.”

“Hmm, I do.” I lift myself onto my elbows and lick his pectoral muscle, my tongue swiping over his light-brown nipple before I bite down hard.

He grunts, both hands gripping my waist. “L-light.”

“That feel good, baby?”

“Yeah.”

“Let me try the other nipple. Can’t have it feeling left out.” I swipe my tongue, rubbing it all over his hard nipple, then bite, sucking on it.

He shudders beneath me, a husky moan escaping him that goes straight through my chest. But there’s hesitation underneath the bravado now, a flicker of uncertainty that absolutely wrecks me.

I grab hold of our cocks and start stroking them, using the precum that glistens on our slits to lube our shafts, and the maddening friction shoots straight to my head.

I rise enough to strip our briefs, kicking them aside, and I smile when his hand joins mine.

“Can I try?”

I remove my hand without a word and shiver at the blinding friction his hand brings from jerking us both. My mouth never leaves him. I keep sucking, biting, dragging my teeth over his perfect nipples, relishing his little sounds of pleasure.

Fuck. I’m starting to understand why leaving him alone feels impossible.

He moves just enough to kick off the rest of his clothes before settling back beneath me again, his legs opening around my hips more slowly this time, like he still can’t believe any of this is actually happening.

I mouth across his chest, listening to every uneven breath I draw from him, and I swear I could live here forever.

Rowan stares down between us, lips parting. “There’s so much precum,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough with fascination. “I didn’t realize...”

“Because you were in the water the first time I made you cum?” I grin against his throat, then roll against him, and his breath punches out of him. “You do that to me.”

“Slow down a little,” he breathes.