Page 19 of The Princess

Damon pressed an open-mouthed kiss against Nash’s neck. “You should’ve seen him tonight.”

“Hot?”

“Scorching. These fucking red skinny jeans and this off-the-shoulder sweater thing. Holy fuck. And he had makeup on, I think, because his mouth was shiny and his lashes were so long.”

Nash shuddered when Damon flicked his tongue against his earlobe. He pressed Damon against the wall harder and fumbled with the button to Damon’s pants before easing his hand down the front, gripping him through his underwear.

“Tell me more.” Nash rubbed Damon’s length, not at all surprised how hard and hot he was. Or that he’d leaked precum into his underwear. The wet spot had to be uncomfortable, and Nash hid a smile as he tucked his hand inside Damon’s underwear.

“Oh, fuck,” Damon groaned and gripped Nash even tighter. “Tell you what?”

“Tell me about the kiss.” Nash kept his strokes slow and teasing. He loved using pleasure to torture Damon, and Damon loved everything Nash did to him. His words, not Nash’s.

“I walked him to his door. But I’d wanted to kiss him all night by that point.” Damon moaned when Nash’s thumb brushed over the head of his cock, paying special attention to his slit and the drop of precum that beaded there. “He looked…oh, fuck. So good, Nash. He looked so good.” Damon clung to Nash and took a deep breath to collect himself because Nash wasn’t going easy on him.

“Did you kiss him or did he kiss you?” Nash asked. He closed his eyes and tried to conjure up the image of the two of them together.

“I kissed him. Then he kissed me. Then we were kissing. It was…fuck, Nash. Soft. And sweet. Like ice cream, but also sweet because it was him and I could tell he wanted that kiss, you know. Like maybe he’d die if I didn’t.”

“Were you hard?” Nash pumped Damon’s cock a few times with the strong grip he knew Damon liked best. The one that almost hurt, but didn’t. Damon shuddered and bucked in Nash’s hands, and he backed off before Damon found his release.

“Were you hard?” Nash repeated the question.

“So fucking hard. He was too.”

“Tell me what you wanted to do.”

“I wanted to take him inside and then…then…” Damon lost the ability to speak for a moment because Nash had gone back to stroking Damon the way he liked it best.

“Then what?” Nash asked, not easing up. He pulled Damon to the brink first, then eased off. He stilled his hand completely, letting Damon keep the warmth of his touch but nothing else.

“I wanted to kiss him everywhere.”

“Everywhere? What would that look like?”

Damon’s voice was barely there now. All husky and strained, like he needed to come, but didn’t want to all at the same time. Nash slowly stroked him, marveling at the way Damon went to putty in his hands. It had always been a rush, being with Damon like this.

“I don’t know,” Damon admitted with a laugh.

“I’ll tell you what I think.” Nash leaned in close and ghosted a kiss against Damon’s mouth. “I think you’d strip him bare and kiss every inch of newly uncovered skin. I think you’d tell him all the things you’ve stopped yourself from saying. I think that you’d put that mouth of yours to excellent use and you’d suck his brains out through his cock.”

Damon whimpered.

Nash’s cock was harder than granite. He could barely think from how fucking turned on he was and he didn’t stop Damon when he reached for him and pushed his cotton pants down, freeing his cock. He’d gone commando and Damon made an approving sound as he grabbed Nash’s cock.

“Please,” Damon ground out.

Nash didn’t keep lube by his front door, because who kept lube by their front door? No one. He gripped both their dicks in one hand. They’d have to make do with precum and spit, which Nash provided before going back to talking Damon through his dirty daydream.

“Would you eat his ass?” Nash asked, starting off slowly. He braced his free hand against the wall to steady himself. Damon clung to him with both hands and tried his best to fuck the channel Nash made with his hand.

“I’d do anything he wanted,” Damon admitted. He sounded ruined already. So close to the edge that he vibrated against Nash, his body wound tight as the pressure built and built.

“Anything?” Nash inquired. “Anything means a lot of things.”

“Nash…please. Anything,” Damon begged. “I need to come so fucking bad.”

“So desperate,” Nash rasped. “So needy.”

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