Page 80 of Touch In Excess

Skye shoved his fingers in deeper, harder, the loud squelch dominating the room. He closed his eyes as he lost himself to the feeling of Rami’s body moving with the rhythm of his hand, and it took a lot of effort to stay present in the moment because there was still so much more to be had.

A finger traced along the back of his neck. Letters, Skye realized. N O W. N O W.

Now.

He understood. He let his fingers slide from Rami’s hole, and then he spread his legs as his lover turned, and Skye took him by the hips, guiding him down. When Rami was crouched and nearly there, Skye gripped his dick and aimed. Rami’s weight sank down on him, catching, slipping, then catching again.

He groaned loudly again as the head of Skye’s cock slipped past the first ring of muscle. Then Rami froze. Time seemed to freeze with him…and then he let out a breath, relaxed his core, and sank all the way down.

Skye couldn’t help the noise he made. It was instinctual, almost animal. It was a bone-deep satisfaction of relief for something he hadn’t realized he’d been waiting for. He could have been perfectly fine and content the rest of his life never having this.

But now that it was his?

Now that Rami had allowed him this moment of impossible closeness?

This would live rent-free in his head for the rest of his life. This, and that three-fingered sign he’d been given minutes before, would be the moments he relieved on his death bed.

I love you, he thought loudly as he gripped the side of the chair with one hand and gave a hard thrust upward. Rami grunted, his ass clenching. Skye did it again, and again. Rami began to match him, his legs flexing as he rose and fell on Skye’s cock.

Eventually, he leaned back, his legs spread wide, bouncing restlessly, and Skye knew that twitch in him. Knew what he wanted. What he needed. Reaching around with both arms, he took both of Rami’s cocks—one in each hand—and he began to stroke them out of time with each other.

Rami let out a soft cry of both need and protest. Skye knew they were both playing it up for the camera a little. He was desperate to get Rami to come so he could have the man all to himself again, but he wanted to make this last as long as possible. He wanted Rami to feel empowered with the thrall he had over all these strangers.

His hands began to slow after long, agonizing minutes of teasing him. They began to match rhythm. Rami let out asobbing sigh of relief, and he began to bounce on Skye’s dick again. He’d been holding off his orgasm for so long that Skye realized he wasn’t going to last.

He stroked Rami faster, harder, shoving him toward the edge of that cliff, and Rami’s body began to heat him as he got closer.

Yes, he thought loudly. He would have given anything to scream Rami’s name as he came—but there was time for that later.

His hips moved, humping up into his tight hole as his balls tightened and his orgasm burned at the base of his spine. Rami squeezed down around him, and before Skye could help himself, that was it. He was coming. His grip got sloppy, so Rami gripped Skye’s hands and began to jack himself with them.

Skye pulsed another rush of come into the condom deep in Rami’s ass as he pictured what that looked like on the video. And then Rami was letting go. He cried out louder than he ever did—loud enough for Skye to hear him perfectly. Hot ropes hit his knuckles as both their arms slowed down, and Rami collapsed backward into Skye’s embrace.

He held him, kissed over the back of his neck where the camera couldn’t see. He stroked a touch over his chest, his nipples, down the hairy trail toward his cocks. He gently ran his fingers over both, making them twitch, making Rami groan. Then Rami reached for something on the bed, and the screen went dark.

He had a little remote, and suddenly, with the push of a button, it was over. It wasdone.

Skye swallowed heavily. “Is it safe to talk?”

“Mm,” Rami said. He made no move to get up, and Skye was grateful because he needed his weight for a moment. It kept it all feeling real. Safe. Like it wasn’t some dream he’d conjured up in the darkest, most lonely moment of his life.

He kissed the back of Rami’s shoulder again and loosely wrapped his arms around his waist. “I love you,” he murmured.

Rami let out a sound that might have been a laugh—Skye wasn’t sure. But he knew it was the sound of joy and maybe even peace. “I love you too.”

Hell. He was never going to get tired of hearing that. Not ever.

Testing the door handle, Skye marched into Jet’s place when it turned and opened. It was the signal he wasn’t going to walk in on anything naked. Probably. There had been some mistakes in the past, but it was usually a safe bet.

And he felt a gut punch of relief when he stepped into the living room to find Jet lying on the couch with his knees up, his braille refresher over his thighs, fingers reading, and Taylor on the floor by his feet, working with his laptop on the coffee table.

Jet turned his head, and Taylor looked up.

“Skye,” Taylor said.

“Hi. I think I’m having a panic attack.”

“Metaphorical or literal?” Jet asked.

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